


olivia

by AspiringToInspire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, a lot of Harry’s inner monologue, larry friendship, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 08:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 69,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AspiringToInspire/pseuds/AspiringToInspire
Summary: Harry wishes things were different.He never wanted things to change between them. In fact, before any of this even happened, the thought had never dared cross his mind, but either way, he guesses they had to, because no one could ever, under any circumstances, find out about his feelings. That would thoroughly ruin everything. Someone would end up being hurt. Someone had to, and Harry, being the nice guy he likes to think he is, couldn't have that, now could he?-or, the one where Harry is an idiot in love with his best friend’s boyfriend Zayn, and I reference way too many One Direction songs





	1. prelude (we don’t talk about it/ comfortable silence is so overrated)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know or own any of the (ex) members of One Direction or any of the songs referenced in this book, however, the plot is all MINE, so I'd love it if you'd be so kind and respect that :))  
> Happy reading! x

**_Even_** _**my** **phone** **misses** **your** **call**_ , _**by** **the** **way**_. _**H**_

 **[Message** **Not** **Sent]**

_

"Liv, what do you want in your omelette?" comes Liam's shout from down the hallway of their tiny flat. He's fixing breakfast for them in the kitchen like the amazing roommate that he is.

"Surprise me, babe!" Olivia replies after a beat. She pulls on her shoes and takes one last glance in her mirror before heading to the kitchen to greet one of her favorite persons.

He's facing away from her, standing in front of the stove, tossing eggs up in the air before catching them in a frying pan. He does it much more effortlessly than Harry usually does. Then again, most people she knows do as they aren't nearly as clumsy and accident prone as he is.

Speaking of, "Harry rang while you were in the shower," Liam informs her without even turning around to look at her. "Said he and Lou were coming over soon. Think it was meant to be a surprise that Louis was joining him though because I heard him call Haz a loudmouth idiot in the background."

Olivia laughs, saying that sure sounded like Lou.

Louis is her best friend Harry's semi-recently acquired roommate (since the whole fraternity thing didn't work out for Hazza who, as much as he enjoys partying, is obsessed with treating people with kindness and refused to do otherwise, so he quit the institution that was known to "exert power" and "preserve inequalities" about a month before school was out for summer and was taken in by Louis who was looking for a new roommate since his former one had conveniently just moved out) and Liam's boyfriend. Their relationship is fairly new, but they already seem to be very much in love.

The couple started off as friends, met through Harry a while back, but it was obvious they'd hit it off from the moment they were introduced. Sure there were moments in the beginning where all they did was bicker and disagree because they were mostly complete opposites, but the fire was always there, even when Louis denied it profusely, stating in a preposterous tone, "I do not have feelings for _Liam_ _Payne_ , nor will I ever."

When it came down to it, all it took was three months of bantering and playful rivalry (involving Louis making fun of Liam every chance he got, and more water fights than you'd expect), two rounds of Spin the Bottle at a wild back to school party, and one very hot kiss to finally get them together. Their relationship took off from there, and as unlikely a couple as they seemed, they complemented each other.

"Thanks, Li." Olivia gratefully smiles up at Liam after he places her omelette on a plate in front of her.

They're sat at their table, chatting and eating, discussing some of the lecturers they've gotten stuck with this semester, when there's a knock at the door. Olivia stands before Liam can, telling him that she's got it, he's already made them breakfast. She pulls open the door and is met by the smiling face of her very best friend and the words, "you're not my boyfriend," from a very disappointed Louis.

"You know, I really missed this while you were gone, Lou. Your greetings are always top of the range," she says flatly. "He's in the kitchen."

Without another word, Louis excitedly pushes past her, and Harry steps inside, closing the door behind him.

"Good morning, Liv." He gives her a kiss on the cheek. "How come you've already showered? Don't you usually leave for the art center around noon?"

She purses her lips thoughtfully in reply and gestures for him to follow her to the kitchen where surprise, surprise, Louis and Liam are already sat impossibly close to each other, snogging with one of Lou's arms wrapped around Liam's waist.

Olivia clears her throat because that's not appropriate for the kitchen- get a room, guys- as she and Harry join them at the table and waits for them to pull apart. "Zayn asked me to meet him at the coffee house in a few since his first class got cancelled. You lads care to join us while you're up for air?"

Harry snorts as he reaches for a piece of French toast. "Liam and I are going to pass on that one," Louis speaks up on his and his boyfriend's behalf. "We haven't seen each other in three whole days, and we'd like some alone time, so take Harold and don't come back for hours."

 _As_ _if_ _Liv's_ _going_ _to_ -

"Okay, but the flat better not smell like sex when I get back," Olivia teases with a smile, utterly betraying him.

Harry frowns and pauses from stretching over for the cream cheese, his eyebrows pinching together. She's a traitor, he thinks. He can't believe it. "What if I don't want to go?" Louis raises his eyebrows challengingly at that, causing Harry to sigh and grumble, "but you know that I will," because he may have only met Louis five months ago, but he always lets his Lou get his way.

He runs a hand through his tangled hair and glances over to see his best friend giving him a knowing smile. "Look, I know that you don't like hanging out with me and my boyfriend much, Haz, but Niall'll be there too since he works there now, so that makes things better, and I promise Zayn and I are not as annoyingly couple-y as we used to be. We've been together for seven months now, so recently, we've slowed down on all the PDA. I'm sure you won't find us nearly as insufferable as before. Liam and Louis have taken our place when it comes to that."

"I'd like to disagree with you, but it's true." Liam chuckles before pecking Louis' cheek. The other boy rolls his blue eyes fondly, accusing Liam of being such a dork.

"Yeah, okay. I guess it won't be that bad," Harry says with a small smile.

He doesn't say why he _really_ doesn't like hanging out with Olivia when she's with her boyfriend though. He doesn't say that he can barely stand seeing them together because it just hurts too much. He doesn't say that something pinches at his heart each time he sees Zayn smile at his girlfriend like she's hung the moon and the stars when Harry believes that they're actually right there in Zayn's eyes. He doesn't say that it probably will be that bad because he's in love with Zayn.

No, he doesn't say any of that. He can't.

_

Harry knew Zayn before Olivia did. They met in a creative writing class before Harry even knew what he wanted to major in in uni. They grew pretty close- after Harry finally got Zayn to open up to him- spent almost everyday together for several months, were practically inseparable, even after Harry introduced Zayn to his childhood best friend Olivia.

Harry went back home one weekend for his birthday to visit his parents and sister, and while baking with her in the kitchen, he told his mother all about Zayn, couldn't stop talking about him, had all these great things to say about the quiet but goofy when you get to know him, brown-eyed, raven-haired boy with pierced ears and tattoos and the biggest heart he's ever known.

He started off by telling her what a great friend Zayn was. He told her about the fact that he laughed at Harry's jokes while everyone else groaned, was always there to silently comfort him when things got rough, and wholeheartedly defended him whenever he felt like words being said about Harry were ill-natured and/or untrue. Zayn was protective of him.

Harry told his mother about how intellectual and artistic he thought Zayn was, how he noticed that Zayn always mumbled correct answers under his breath to questions his professors asked that no one else seemed to know, and how he talked about books and drew and painted with an admirable passion.

He told her about the fact that Zayn wears his heart on his sleeve, that he's extremely affectionate with all his friends and constantly talks about his family, about his super-mum and role model dad and three sisters that he utterly adores.

He told her that he thought Zayn was absolutely adorable in the sense that he rarely got out of bed before noon, and waking him up prior to then could make anyone feel positively gutted.

He told her about Zayn's interest in comic books and superheroes, how he always wanted to be a superhero and even worked at a comic book store. He told her that he didn't expect Zayn, who seemed like all sharp edges and brooding when they first met, to like admittedly dorky things like that but that he found it cute, nonetheless. (Of course he did. This was Zayn Malik they were talking about.)

He told her about how beautiful Zayn was, how ridiculously long his eyelashes were. He told her about his great eyebrows and jawline and cheekbones and about the brown in his eyes. He even told her how much he enjoyed seeing Zayn smile with his eyes crinkled and his tongue poking out between his teeth.

He said that Zayn knew he was a good looking lad, quite liked to look at himself, that one, but who wouldn't, and that he respected that fact about him, respected his confidence in his Vogue model appearance, even though Zayn could be awfully shy at times.

Finally, he told her about how great it felt when Zayn said that he was proud of Harry for finally figuring out what he wanted to do with his life. He told her about how great it felt when Zayn hugged him, how he basked in the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke that he had absolutely hated the scent of until he met Zayn, and how great it felt when he ran his fingers through Harry's curls and pressed soft kisses to his temple while they lied close together on the couch in Zayn's flat.

He told her that that was one of his favorite places to be, (among other Zayn related situations) and it wasn't until he looked outside and saw that the sun was setting that he realized he'd been talking about _his_ sun for hours, and that's- that's when Harry realized something else too.

That's when he realized that he had feelings for Zayn. He turned to his mother who smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek comfortingly, and he guessed that she already knew.

Honestly, it probably should have been a more shocking revelation, but Harry really wasn't too surprised. He could see himself with Zayn. He even planned to tell the other boy how he felt when he got back to school. He was never one to shy away from his feelings, and he thought that maybe Zayn could feel the same way, if he happened to think about other guys that way.

Things, however, don't always go according to plan. When he got back to school, things were different. Olivia and Zayn were dating, sort of. She had asked him out, effectively managing to break her best friend's heart by doing so.

But Harry didn't blame her. As much as he wanted to be angry at his best friend, he couldn't be. There was no way for her to know.

Harry thought that she could have at least mentioned that she had a thing for Zayn- but, no. She didn't have to, because maybe she wanted to keep it a secret until she was sure about how Zayn felt about _her_ , and maybe Harry couldn't exactly help with that considering the fact that he had accidentally spilled the beans about Liv's budding crush on her "stupidly fit, perfectly perfect" roommate, Liam, to everyone they knew, including the man himself who was then forced to break the news to her that he was gay.

Besides, similarly to the extremely awkward Liam incident, Olivia was never made aware that her best friend liked boys. In fact, Harry wasn't even sure that he did. He'd never really thought about it, never really labeled his sexuality either. He never saw the need. He just knew that he liked Zayn, or maybe this was more than just liking since, now that he thought about it, he seemed so far gone for this boy that he'd probably physically give him his heart if he needed it, but so what, it was too late. Harry'd lost Zayn before he even had him.

Zayn and Olivia were suddenly the ones who were inseparable, and it pained Harry greatly to know that he'd probably never get a chance to be with the person he wanted most, because even if Liv and Zayn did somehow end up not working out, (which seemed highly unlikely at the disgustingly sweet rate they were going) he could never go after his best friend's ex, and Harry was okay with that, he was.

Or at least he tried to be, but it was hard when he felt himself plummeting further and further each day into the wonder that was Zayn, so after about a month, he started to distance himself from the happy new couple. It was too hard for him to see them together, he decided, so it was time for some changes.

He finally mustered up the courage to quit his fraternity, started looking for a flat, began ignoring both Liv and Zayn's calls and texts, slowly stopped spending time with them and Niall and Liam, instead hanging out with Nick and Lou and Caroline, and their mates, and when he wasn't with them, Harry got to know his newly found roommate Louis, (whom Harry briefly thought could be the new object of his affection since he apparently liked boys now, until he realized he was just pissed, having drunk one too many beers, and although Louis was really pretty and small and cuddly and smelled like cigarettes, he wasn't Zayn) and claimed he was extremely busy with school and work when anyone else invited him out.

After about two months of that mess, Olivia snapped because Harry couldn't be _that_ busy. She decided she'd gotten enough of his crap, somehow managed to hunt him down, and loudly confronted him, in a supermarket no less, with patrons watching on as she embarrassingly berated him, demanding an answer as to why he kept blowing his friends off like an absolute prick.

Harry was extremely red in the face from all the unwanted attention they'd been getting in the cereal isle by the time she was finished, but he sighed and finally told her the truth, kind of.

He said that things were too different now, that it was weird to see two of his closest friends together like that when he hadn't even known that there was anything there. He also told her that he knew it was selfish, but their relationship made him properly miserable since he didn't have anyone of his own, and it felt like they didn't even need him anymore now that they had each other.

Olivia softened at his words, and it was as if he could visibly see the tension rise out of her. She hit him in the arm before pulling him down into an all-encompassing hug that only she could give him even though she was much smaller than he was. She whispered that she absolutely understood but assured him that nothing had really changed, he could stop acting like such an idiot now. Harry was still her bestest friend, and she loved and needed him very much, she was sure Zayn did too. She also said that both she and Zayn missed Harry tons, she wouldn't be there if they didn't.

Harry didn't want to focus on the fact that she had just said that Zayn missed and might have loved and needed him, but he did, because he was a fool, and he missed Zayn too, more than Olivia or anyone else would ever know. He shouldn't've; he knew that. He- he couldn't've because Zayn was Olivia's now.

Olivia- his very best friend, the one he'd grown up with, the one he'd do anything for, the one that was begging him not to leave her life, the one that Harry would never purposely hurt. With that thought in mind, he finally came to a conclusion: he had to suck it up, buttercup.

He wanted his friends to be happy. He wanted _Olivia_ to be happy, and if Zayn made her happy, and she made him happy, then he was okay with that, or at least he'd try harder to be this time around.

Harry began hanging out with his friends again, even introduced them to Louis just before summer kicked off, though he tried his best to avoid being around just Liv and Zayn together, preferred spending time with the couple while they were in a group because then the situation was easier to handle when he could focus on how quickly words were coming out of Liam's mouth, or how Louis brushed his fringe out of his eyes, or how Niall laughed at literally anything anyone said, and not the way that Zayn held Olivia and nestled her close like he used to Harry.

He also tried his best to steer clear of being with Zayn alone which became easier to do when Zayn left to go home to his family barely a month into summer and didn't return until school reopened. They had all went back home during summer at one point or another, but Zayn had stayed the longest.

All this eventually led to Harry and his brown-eyed boy drifting apart. They still spoke, but it wasn't the same, and Harry felt terrible because it was all his fault, and he knew that from what Olivia told Zayn, he could understand why he initially didn't want to be around him and Liv when they first started dating, but he was sure Zayn had no idea why Harry had started distancing himself from just him.

He- he wishes it wasn't like that. He wishes that things were different, that he and Zayn were still close, that their friendship wasn't tainted with awkwardness and discomfort due to his stupid, irrational feelings, that he wasn't such a twit.

Who knows, maybe their relationship would be good again one day, but for now, things just couldn't be the way they were before. _They_ couldn't be the way they were before. Harry's not sure he could trust himself with Zayn if they were, and he couldn't do that to her, not to _Olivia_.

So yes, Harry thinks, as he heads to the cafe with her, things are going to be that bad because Harry was the idiot that stupidly fell for the boy that is now his best friend's boyfriend.

Harry was the one that fell in love with Zayn, and there is nothing he can do about it.

_

**_I gotta get better, and maybe we'll work it out. H_ **

**[Message Not Sent]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	2. get out, get out, get out of my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang makes plans for New Years. Harry and Zayn are awkward. And Christmas!

**start**

"You losers are gonna _love_ me, even more than you already do, when you hear what I did for you," Louis calls out as soon as he's through the door.

Harry nearly facepalms. He's starting to wish they didn't just clearly walk in together because other customers are now peering in their direction.

Louis waves his hand dismissively at them, saying, "Not you lot. I don't even know you. You." He points at the pair sat on the couch in their favorite cafe. "You as well." His finger aims at the laughing boy working the expresso machine.

They've just stepped into Café Rochele, a local coffee house not far from their university. Harry reckons they all think of it as their hang-out of sorts. It's the place he and his friends head to when they want to unwind after a long day of classes and work, where they can sit on their asses all evening, nursing a hot or cold drink as they take the piss out of each other and shirk. Matters not the situation, really, they always seem to find themselves there, much to the dismay of the barista, Kurt.

He sometimes likes to think of them as the _Friends_ , the six of them. Harry with his quirks, Niall and his unconditional love for food, Liam with his perfectionist tendencies, Louis and his jokes, and of course, Zayn and Olivia. With each other. They're the it couple, the stars of the show. It all fits, unfortunately.

"What _we_ did, Lou," Harry reminds him in a bored tone as they make their way over to the couch.

Louis swats disparagingly at the air at that, removes his scarf, and plops down onto Liam's lap. "I guess Harold contributed a bit too, but it was all my idea."

"Yeah? How do you fig- ooh. Niall, hey. Could you get me a vanilla tea, please?" Harry requests as the blonde moves past him, loaded tray in hand.

"Fuck off," Niall snorts, handing Olivia and Liam their drinks before he's off again. "You should have come earlier. Kurtis is at the counter. Go ask him."

"Right, how rude of me. It's not like you work here or anything."

Olivia chuckles as Harry falls into the seat next to her with a pout. "Here, you can have some of mine, love." She smiles warmly at him, and honestly that's why she's Harry's best friend. She's not evil like the others. "What did you and Louis do?"

"Before I answer that, any plans for New Years?" Louis looks around as each of his friends shakes their head.

"Not yet," Niall tells him, appearing once more to sit on the arm of the sofa even though he's really supposed to be getting back to work behind the counter now since he's already just filled all his orders.

Harry's not sure how he's managed to keep this job for so long, actually, with all the things he gets up while working his shifts (sometimes with the help of Louis). He's also never seen or heard of his friend getting told off by his manager, coworkers or any customers in spite of that fact, but he figures Niall could just flash his sunshiny smile and make any situation all better.

"Brilliant," Louis exclaims with a bright smile.

"Why? What'd you do?" Liam asks, eying his boyfriend warily because nothing good ever comes from going along with one of Louis' ideas. Harry learned that the hard way when he'd taken Diana to the fair instead of to her _'lame dance recital that she didn't even want to go to anyway,'_ as quoted by Louis.

He'd convinced Harry to tag along with he and Olivia for the night and to _'what the hell, bring the little angel along too. Her mum'll never know,'_ he'd said. _'You're not a total muppet. I'm sure you can come up with a decent excuse,'_ he'd slapped him on the back.

Needless to say, Harry was fired from that job only a few hours later.

It was alright though. He knows the little girl'd had much more fun with them than she ever would have if she'd just gone to perform for Harry and a camera recording a video for her always-too-busy parents, and either way, the smile on her face and the hug she'd given him when they'd dropped her off home that night was almost definitely worth all the yelling and discomfort he'd had to endure the following day.

"Well, see, I was thinking-"

"That can't be good," Niall mumbles, causing Olivia to snicker. Louis lightly kicks at him from the other end of the couch, so he nearly slips off the sofa arm. He'd have fallen on his arse if it weren't for his quick reflexes, which is more than Harry can say for himself.

"Yeah, so we're all a big, happy, close group of friends now, right? Since Harry managed to stop being a moody baby long enough for me to come into your otherwise boring lives," Harry glares at his roommate for that, "so I was thinking that we should bring in the new year together."

"What, like have a party?"

_Oh God. She really shouldn't have said that._

As Harry could have predicted, her words lead to an ostentatiously scoffing Louis who shakes his head at her as an insulted look plays on his face. "Excuse me? I'm offended that you could even think I'm that unoriginal, Olivia. Where's the creativity? Where's the flare, and where's that boyfriend of yours, by the way? He should be here to hear this."

"His shift's not quite over yet," Harry hears himself reply, and _why does he even know that?_ “He’sprobably not going to want to come, anyway," he adds to deflect before glancing downwards and taking another sip from Liv's mug.

"Well why not?" Louis demands. "Are you saying he won't want to spend time with us, because we are great fun!"

"No, we are," Olivia quickly assures him with another small laugh and a pat to Louis' shoulder. Then, she turns to Harry and makes grab hands for her drink. "Now, that's enough, you," she tells him teasingly. "You heard Niall. Go order your own at the counter."

He begrudgingly relents, and she takes her first mouthful of tea before continuing. "Anyway, Lou, Haz is probably just trying to say that Zaynie might not want to come because he loves spending the holidays with his family. You guys know how he is. He's practically back home any chance he gets."

Harry tries not to pout. That's exactly what he meant, but he doesn't like that Olivia, or anyone else for that matter, knows Zayn in the way that only he was supposed to. It's stupid, really. She's his girlfriend for crying out loud, has been for almost a whole year, but Harry still doesn't appreciate it. "Right," he agrees, nonetheless.

"But I mean, I guess it all really depends on what we're doing," Olivia continues. "Which is what exactly?" She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well-"

"Oh, we should go hiking," Liam suddenly chips in excitedly before Louis has the chance to finally answer the question. "I actually read about this one place that-"

"No one asked you, Payno." Lou taps him softly on the nose to shut him up because Liam's the love of his life, but he wouldn't be Louis if he wasn't a little shit, now would he?

Niall laughs at Louis' words and Liam's glower, sighing an "oh, thank God" in a relieved tone. "That idea sounded like absolute shite. No offense, Li."

Liam directs his glare at Niall then, and Harry decides that he loves his friends. They can be quite entertaining at times.

"As I was saying, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," Louis begins once more, shooting a pointed look at his boyfriend, "how would you all like to spend one week rooming in a luxurious cabin in the mountains?" He grins.

Harry's best friend immediately turns to him. "Shut up. Your parents are letting you use the cabin? For an entire week?"

Harry shrugs, beaming at the how excited she seems. "Yeah, they said it was alright. They think we're mature enough now."

"Haz, that's- Holy shit, I don't even know what to say," Olivia laughs slightly. "This is amazing."

"Yeah, it's sick, mate," Niall cuts in, clapping him on the back with that blinding smile.

"It is. You know, I didn't think they'd trust you with it all alone after what happened last time," Liam says somewhat absentmindedly, most of his attention on the ear of Louis' that he's playing with.

Harry's grin subdues, and his eyes widen murderously as Olivia flies a hand up to her mouth to hide her smile, leaving Niall to ask, "Why, what happened last time?"

Louis narrows his eyes interestedly, swipes his fringe out of them. "Judging by the ridiculous look on Harold's face, I'd bet he doesn't want us to know, Nialler." He smirks before turning to Liam. He runs a hand through the other boy's hair like he always does when he wants him to do his bidding. "But please, do tell, babe."

"No, no," Harry promptly interjects. "That's not something that we talk about. I can't believe you told him, Olivia."

"Sorry, I didn't realize it was a secret." Harry fixes her with a flat look. "Okay, I did, but Liam's my roommate. I live with the guy. How could I not tell him everything?"

"You tell your _roommate_ everything? What about your boyfriend?"

Olivia shrinks in her seat, admitting sheepishly, "He knows too... Tea?" She flashes him a cod grin, jutting the cup out as if that makes things better.

Harry takes it back. He takes it all back. She's evil too.

"What do I know?"

 _Oh, the impeccable timing,_ whines the voice in his head. Maybe, _just maybe,_ he thinks, everything would be better if things were different by now, if he didn't still freeze at the mere sound of Zayn's voice, if he didn't still pause to listen to every sentence that leaves his mouth as his accent commands Harry's attention and fills his ears pleasantly, if he didn't still marvel at the way his lips formed every single word. It's woeful, actually.

Louis opens his big mouth to respond, but Harry shockingly beats him to it. "Nothing. 's not important. How are you?" He's dimly aware of what a far cry this is from when they used to greet each with cuddles and kisses on the cheek instead, but what are you going to do, right?

Zayn frowns a bit at that, probably thinking Harry is just freezing him out like he always does. "Right then. I'm okay," he says quietly before acknowledging Olivia sweetly with a kiss on the mouth. He then leans down to whisper something in her ear that causes her to giggle endearingly and bite at her lip. Zayn smiles softly and pecks her nose, mouthing a clear " _later_."

Harry should be over this by now, he really should, but he still has to try not to pull his eyes shut. Sometimes he wishes he wasn't such a hopeless fool. "Well, I'm going to take off," he hears himself say again because, apparently, he can't control the words that exit his mouth now.

"But Hazza, you just got here," Olivia protests, pulling a face. "Are you leaving because you don't want Louis to hear the story? If so, I won't tell him, and didn't you want tea, babe?"

"No, that's not it, and I did," he starts, already standing and formulating an excuse as he pulls on his gloves, "but Niall's a twat, and I have to go study for my last final anyway. I have it first thing in the morning."

His statement's not entirely untrue. His final is first thing in the morning, but he thinks he's already studied enough, and he doesn't like to overdo it. Still, Louis gives him that calculated, _there's_ _something_ _you're_ _hiding_ look that he always directs at Harry these days.

Harry's not completely sure, but he thinks that maybe it has something to do with the fact that he halfwittedly, drunkenly cried to Louis a few days ago on the night of Olivia and Zayn's ten month anniversary, only offering a wet, muffled, "I can't tell you," between sniffles as an answer when he was asked what was wrong and who Louis had to beat up, but there's really no way for him to tell.

Okay, that's a lie. That has to be it. What else could it be? Harry really needs to be more careful because Louis's more observant than he lets on.

Olivia nods slowly, as understanding as ever. "Well, alright then. Call me when you have the chance. We have to talk more about New Years."

She rises to hug him goodbye, prompting Harry to bid the others. He kisses her cheek, pats Liam and Niall fondly on the back, tells Louis he'll see him at home, and shoots a cringingly awkward head nod at Zayn.

Brilliant.

-

He's become so accustomed to the way that things are now, that sometimes, Harry finds it hard to believe that there ever even was a time when he and Zayn were close; a time when one boy could go up and talk to the other without making things almost unbearably fiddly for either of them; a time when Harry considered Zayn his best friend, if he ever had to choose one besides Olivia; a time when they could laugh pressed close together and whisper things to each other that they wouldn't share with anyone else; a time when Harry could go over to Zayn’s to make him dinner, where after, the latter would fall asleep on the couch while attempting to finish his homework, leaving the former to carry him to his bedroom where Zayn would then sleepily ask him to stay the night; a time when Harry barely acknowledged the scorching sensation he feels run across his skin when Zayn's fingers simply graze him; a time when seeing Zayn didn't make his heart ache with want and need and such melancholy that-

He shouldn't be thinking about this right now. He has his final to worry about. Or at least, that's what he tries to tell himself, but who is he kidding? He always finds his mind drifting to thoughts of Zayn, even after so long. Harry wishes he'd just play nice and _get out of his head._

He used to imagine that they would go away, his feelings. They had to, right? Then things would be okay again. He just had to give it some time.

This newfound distance between us is good, he used to tell himself, no matter how out of place and empty it made him feel at first. (Now, he thinks he's just numbly used to it.) It was good, and it would help him get over Zayn, and when he did, they would be close again. Soon Harry would be able to tell him all about this insignificant crush, and soon they'd laugh about how ridiculous it all was, and Harry would be happy because he'd have his brown-eyed boy back.

 _Boy (or girl), was he an idiot._ The distance didn't help shit. He can't even fathom how far gone he'd be for Zayn without it.

Harry slams his textbook closed. This clearly isn't getting anywhere. He should find something else to do.

-

"You little shit. You're in love with her, aren't you?" The door slams unnecessarily loud behind him, and he presents Harry with an exaggerated shake of the head. Louis sure does love making dramatic entrances.

Harry's startled a tad at the noise, even though he should already be used to it with eight months of living with Louis under his belt. His eyebrows furrow as he looks up from the book that he was just getting into. "What?"

"Olivia. You're in love with your best friend." He smirks knowingly, folding his arms over his chest. "Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong."

"What are you-"

"Oi! Wait, wait, wait." He cuts Harry off way too excitedly, holding a hand up before throwing his things to the ground near the door. Harry's about to tell him to pick those up, but Louis's already plopping down next to him on the couch. "I almost forgot the best part. You, my friend," he pokes at Harry's chest, "are also jealous of our dear mate, Zayn, because of your pathetic feelings."

"Louis, I'm not-"

But he wasn't having any of it. The man was on a roll.

" _That's_ why you cried to me the other night, you big baby, and why you're so quiet whenever they're around together. I've always found that weird because mate, you do talk some shit, but you don't when they're together. That also explains why the tension in the air is so thick that you can cut it with a fucking knife whenever you and Zayn try to have a conversation. It looks painful, actually, and I never understood why because personally, I think he's a top lad, and you, ya weirdo, seem to get along with everybody. Also, from what I heard, you two used to be pretty close, but now I get it. You're thoroughly jealous of him, aren't you? The girl that you love who happens to be your best friend is in love with him and not you, so you hate him. It's textbook, really."

Harry feels sick, and somehow he figures it would sound much worse correcting him and saying that it's the other way around, that he's actually jealous of his _best_ _friend_ (not that he is, he's happy for her) because he's in love with her boyfriend. How sick is he?

"Well?" Louis's waiting for an answer. Of course he thinks he's cracked the case, hit the hammer on the nail, other expressions alike that Harry’s spinning head can't think of right now. "Am I right or not, Styles?

If Harry didn't think he'd surely trip over absolutely nothing on his way to his room, he'd make a run for it, but he does, so he settles for asking instead, "Honestly, what are you on about, Lou?"

"Are you daft? I just gave you a whole speech that took up about half my life."

"I-" Harry opens his mouth to retort then closes it. He manages to do just that repeatedly for a good minute or so, resulting in Louis giving him a half annoyed, half expectant look. "You- you did, didn't you?"

At that, and probably the dejected tone of his voice, Lou pauses, eying Harry carefully for a few minutes, before he heaves a sigh. He stands from the couch, stretches and moves to the kitchen where Harry can hear the clang of pots and pans. "Tea?" he yells, and Harry's aware of what comes next. "You never did get yours at the caff earlier!"

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and places the marker in his book, closing it and setting it on the coffee table. He knows he doesn't have to answer because whether he likes it or not, it's a time for a chat, and so with a mug in his hand and a comforting palm at his back, he tells Louis everything. He allows it all to spill out of him, from the moment he realized he had feelings for Zayn to that period of time where _Girl_ _Crush_ was all he listened to because he's almost certainly a masochist.

He tells him about his own songs that he wrote for Zayn that are tucked away in the dogeared pages of his notebook that he tells himself he should burn or throw into the sea, or something else of the like that's just as dramatic, (even though the lyrics are practically cemented in his brain and tattooed to his heart) because he could never let anyone hear them, hear how vulnerable he set himself up to be the minute he scribbled the first word and didn't stop for months.

He tells him about all the unsent messages and letters, and about all the times he was "conveniently" passing by Zayn's flat building and thought about stopping in like old times.

He tells him about the time he and Olivia opted to head back to their hometown together for a visit, how okay he was about the idea, despite not much liking the very thought of going back to that boring place when he didn't have to, until he found out that she was bringing Zayn along to _meet_ _her_ _parents,_ and how he selfishly decided that he couldn't bear to be with them alone on the long drive and even for the rest of the trip, so he invited Niall, and the second he heard someone ask the couple about their relationship, he deflected the subject by telling the world that Niall was pregnant, _every_ _single_ _time._

It's not something he'd say he's proud of, but he is, even if Olivia did punch him in the arm after the first few times.

He tells Louis everything, and it feels good because he never knew that he needed this, but he did, and Harry’s glad because his roommate may like to think of himself as God's gift to comedy, but he knows when to be serious, and Harry appreciates that, so as he curls up into Louis' side with a hand running through his hair, its owner telling him that he's an idiot but that he'll be alright, Harry resolutely decides not to think about all the times Zayn was the one doing this very thing instead.

-

He's the first to arrive at the cabin a few weeks later. Christmas back home had been great, he thinks.

It all started with the perfect bone-crushing hug he'd received as way of greeting as soon as he shut his car door which Harry knew could really only come from one very special person. She'd caught him by utter surprise, practically jumping him before he could enter the house, but he'd laughed with mirth and glanced down, already expecting to find his favorite sister and her newly dyed hair gripping him with a vengeance. _'I'm_ _your_ _only_ _sister, you mug.’_ Gemma had pinched his side.

Harry closes the door behind him, setting his bags down just long enough to hang his coat on the rack and remove his gloves and shoes. He rubs his hands together, blowing on them in attempt to make up for the loss of warmth before permitting his eyes to survey the cabin's interior. It doesn't look much different from last he was here, still very cozy, very neat, but he purses his lips as he decides to tidy up a bit anyway. He's got some time before the rest of the gang arrives.

He'd spent most of his days back home stationed in the kitchen. He'd busied himself baking Christmas cookies with his mum and eating them as she listened to him go on all about life, about his gigs at the cafe, how the semester had gone, and his friends. She'd listened keenly and put in titbits of her own, even as he'd so blatantly purposefully evaded saying much about Zayn and about his relationship with Liv that still seemed just so bloody interesting to everyone in this blessed town, but if his mother noticed, she didn't say anything. She just smiled affectionately at him and offered more hot chocolate.

Speaking of hot chocolate, Harry thinks he might have some. He dumps his luggage in his parents' room because he's decided that's where he'll be sleeping this week and heads to the kitchen to deposit the groceries he'd bought earlier. While rummaging through the cupboard, to his delight, he finds a bottle of wine. He'd told Olivia and Liam to bring some up, but no harm in pouring himself a glass of this instead now.

After doing just so and taking a sip- _not_ _bad_ \- Harry makes his way to the living area where he lights a fire. He sets his glass down for a minute as he skims through his choices, ultimately selecting a Stevie Nicks record to play because that’s just the kind of mood he’s in, and he likes to have music on as he works.

He starts with the bedrooms, easy enough. He remakes all the beds, covering them with fresh sheets, duvets, and pillowcases, and draws back the curtains to let some light in. Harry checks to make sure there are enough towels for everyone before moving on.

His nights, he'd spent all snuggled up on the couch with his family, his head to Gemma's shoulder as he watched Christmas movies he'd seen with them a million and one times before. Sometimes his sister would laugh at his reactions and poke fun at him for them, but she ruffled his hair fondly when he frowned and demanded his parents tell her off, supplying a kiss and apology he knew meant nothing at all but ate up anyway. No matter what anyone says, he hadn't cried this time during _It's_ _a_ _Wonderful_ _Life._ Shut up, he hadn't.

In between those moments with his family, Harry'd been out with Olivia, getting up to all the things he's been doing with her for years now. They'd met up with some old friends at the pub they'd both got sick way too many times in, took part in a bonfire with said friends at the beach where Liv had her first kiss, went out for dinner at their favorite bistro where they chatted about how being back like this always made them forget how fast life seemed to be coming at them sometimes, and she and Gem had dragged him to an open mic night at a new coffee shop that reminded Harry of Café Rochele.

They'd both been the loudest in the crowd by the time he had finished performing, so much so that his face hurt from smiling so much because really, what more did he need than this right here?

He'd charmed his way through the night at the annual formal Christmas Eve party his family always attends with Olivia's, got pissed with his best friend on really bubbly champagne, made her snort extremely unattractively each time an older woman who'd taken his inherent magnetism the wrong way tried to pull him, and called to wish a very drunk Louis happy birthday for the second time that day while also not being all there himself.

He'd been halfway through telling his roommate how much he loved him and missed him and appreciated all he'd done for him when Olivia stumbled out onto the balcony and slurred, ”is that Lou? I wanna talk to him!” even though she'd already given him birthday wishes earlier too. Onlookers who probably watched them grew up had shaken their heads and muttered at them, but they were too out of it and high on life to care.

He'd opened presents with his family on Christmas morning, ignoring the car accident taking place in his head, had a nice meal with them during the afternoon, still paying no heed to how shit he felt, and bid Liv a properly dramatic goodbye in the evening, complete with a few fake tears he threatened to shed.

’ _Quit acting like I'm going to war. We'll see each other soon, you dork.'_ She'd laughed and cupped his cheek, telling him to be good, and they'd left each other with kisses and tight hugs before she was off with her family, heading to her older sister's where she was staying until the day they were all supposed to meet at the cabin.

All in all, Harry believes holiday's been great so far, even if Olivia did abandon him, and he's barely given Zayn a thought. Really, he has. He knows he's not coming up to the cabin, Liv had so herself, so he figures he has nothing to worry about for New Years. He'll simply spend the week with his mates, drink cheap beer and shit wine, and have an all around good time.

He's finished wiping the counter and other grimy surfaces down, dusting all that needs to be dusted, so basically, all that's left to be done is the floors. He starts sweeping a bit like he used when he worked in a bakery. He liked working a bakery.

It's all going very well. The sweeping went fine, and Harry's actually quite proud of himself, having only accidentally knocked something over slash hurt himself twice for the afternoon. He beams at his handiwork but stops as he notices that he must have missed a vase. It's a bit smeared, but he gets right on that, grabbing a cloth from before. It's looking just about perfect when he hears a knock at the door.

It's probably Liam and Louis. He doesn't like to be late much, that Liam, so Harry won't be surprised if they're the ones arriving first. He's still shining the glass ornament on his way to the door, admiring how much better it looks thanks to him. Unfortunately, that all turns out to be for nothing because it's as if the music is cut off by a record scratch when he pulls the door open and sees who's actually standing on the other side.

"Zayn," Harry says on a breath and promptly allows the vase to plummet down to his foot. He's surprised to see him to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all probably saw that one coming, but what do you think?  
> I sincerely apologize if it was shit x


	3. your hands touching me, they're touching me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Zayn are still awkward, but they have a much needed heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of One Direction's ninth anniversary, I decided to update earlier than I planned to. Yay!  
> Happy nine years! x

"Zayn," Harry says on a breath and promptly allows the vase to plummet down to his foot.

He's surprised to see him to say the least, but here he is, standing at the door of Harry's parents' cabin in the mountains, wrapped in a dark pea coat that accentuates his body, much to the delight of Harry's eyes, but can't possibly be keeping him warm enough because it's freezing outside, and he doesn't appear to be wearing much layers.

Unfortunately, Harry'll have to savour how good Zayn looks and inappropriately think of ways to warm him up another time, because right now, there are more pressing matters to be dealt with.

"Oh, fuck me!" He curses on a wince on impact, as he simultaneously experiences a staggering pain shooting through his right foot. "Are you shitting me?" Of all the mortifying situations his innate clumsiness has gotten him into, in the back of his mind, Harry absently rates this one in the top three. Kill him now, please.

"What the hell, Harreh," Zayn says in lieu of hello as his eyes enlarge at the glass shattering. He instantly drops his bags to the ground and rushes inside, slipping an arm carefully under Harry's to hold him up. "Fuck. You alright?"

His brown eyes are wide with worry, and Harry manages to nod slowly, despite almost getting sidetracked by them. He averts his gaze and also resolutely decides to ignore the first-degree burn he now feels present at his back. He's sure it's just as a result of the cold unexpectedly rushing in and catching Harry in less than warm-enough-for-outside clothing or sumnat.

"Ever the fucking klutz, yeah?" Zayn goes on and slightly smirks because Harry was always particularly graceless around him, even more so than he usually was. He abruptly lifts him off his feet and sets him down a few feet away, out of all the shards of glass. "What are we going to do with you?" Harry tries his best to will the color staining his cheeks to go away- since when does he fucking blush- but it's not like Zayn's even noticed with the way he's glancing down at the mess Harry's made. "I have to clean this up. _Don't_ set your foot down," he tells him sternly.

"'m fine," Harry stubbornly mutters because he's a fibber now, but that's expected with all the necessary little white lies he's convinced himself he's had to tell in last couple months. No, what's more surprising is the fact that he could even get words out with the way his heart is uncomfortably lodged in his throat. "I just cleaned that vase." He frowns down at it.

Zayn ignores that. "Can you walk?" He asks, still not looking at Harry, and Harry tries to turn a blind eye to how much he feels he wants him to. His brow is furrowed as he surveys the damage, and Harry wants more than anything to smooth it out because Zayn shouldn't look at that. "Using the one foot," he elucidates. "Or I could carry you." He suddenly glances up, causing Harry to almost lose all breath at the intensity, the allure. Bloody hell. He can't seem to recall the last time he was physically this close to Zayn. He tends to forget (another lie) just how brown his eyes actually are, just how insanely dark and thick his eyelashes appear, just how- "Harry?"

"Hmm?" Was he staring? Fuck. He almost groans out loud. How did he manage to get himself in this situation? He's tried so hard this year to avoid this very thing. Well, not this _very_ thing because that would be weird if he'd known that he'd end up in a situation like this where he'd idiotically hurt himself at a higher degree than he's used to because he's so pitifully uncoordinated, leaving Zayn to look at him like that, like he's concerned and cares, and- and- "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so. Walking. Walking's fine."

Zayn nods and slams the door shut behind them with his foot. He helps Harry amble over to the couch, still gripping onto him very tightly, not that Harry has noticed. He falls into it with a grunt. "You're such a clumsy idiot."

That's fair. He is, but he doesn't want to hear about that right now, not when it causes Zayn's face to twist like he's in pain too, and Harry doesn't quite know what to do with that, so he decides to channel a bit of his charm and pouts as best he knows how as a means of diversion. "Are you just going to keep insulting me while I'm in pain? That's low, Zayn."

Zayn softens at that like Harry hoped he still would, shakes his head. "We need to get you some ice."

"No, you don't have to-"

"Shut up, Harry. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. Ice."

Harry tries not to sink in his seat at his firm tone. Zayn always was like this when it came to protecting the people he cared about, if he still considered Harry to be one of those persons with how standoffish he tends to come off nowadays. He doesn't take any shit. Louis's the same in this aspect.

Harry points to the wall just ahead of them. "Kitchen's right back there. Should be some in the freezer."

Zayn nods, and Harry heavily sighs after he's gone (he can breathe again) and leans back as he hears him scrabble about through the refrigerator. He tries to focus on taking deep breaths and not on how his foot seems to be throbbing. He'll be okay, he tells himself, and soon, the others will arrive, and he'll forget all about this horrible start to his evening.

After a few minutes, Zayn returns with some ice wrapped in a dish rag. "Do you think it's broken?"

Harry shakes his head wordlessly while he watches Zayn carefully remove his sock to reveal his already bruising foot. He moves it to rest on his thigh as he runs his thumb over where it's starting to swell. Harry flushes red again which is just fucking ridiculous, but there's been more skin contact between the two of them in the last couple minutes than there has been in the past few months. "Try to move your toes."

"What?"

Zayn gives him a look, and Harry tries not to squirm under his intense stare. "Try to move your toes."

He dubiously does as he's told. "Like that?"

Zayn nods as he locks his eyes on Harry's foot. "Now twist your foot from side to side." He does so, and Zayn gives half a smile. "Looks like it's not broken. That's good." He gently scrapes the pad of his thumb across the inflamed area again before holding the ice there, the chill of it a nice presence that numbs the splitting pain Harry'd been feeling.

He wants to protest, say Zayn doesn't need to do all this, but he can't find the words when he glances up at him after a while, after the pain has subdued, his stupidly attractive face offering that same tentative smile. "Better?"

Um. His eyes, they're so- they're so big, so brown, and Harry slams his eyes closed. No. No distractions. "What are you doing here?" He blurts out, and the spell is broken.

Zayn frowns at those words, probably because Harry seems to be acting like a proper prick again and didn't answer his question, but he replies nonetheless. "Came to hang out with my mates and bring in New Years with them, same as the rest of you. Is that okay?" He quirks an eyebrow in the challenging way that Harry, or anyone else for that matter, could never go up against, so Harry quickly shakes his head as he struggles to find the right words, if there are any at all.

"No, that's- I- I just didn't think you'd come, is all."

"So I've heard." Zayn breaks eye contact then, his steely gaze now moving to take in his surroundings for the first time since he arrived. It passes over the living area and lands on the veranda door where they can see snowflakes delicately descending outside. "You thought I'd want to stay with my family."

Harry gulps. Why'd his friends have to be such blabber mouths? Of course they told Zayn that Harry said that. "Right. Because you're- you always spend the holidays with them. You love doing that."

"Yeah? So does Louis, but you knew he'd come, didn't you? And how would you know exactly?" Zayn licks his bottom lip as he looks back at Harry. "We never really talk anymore. Maybe that's changed for me."

Ouch. He deserves that. Still, "Doubt you could change that much." It's gentle, the way he says it. Harry didn't mean for it to come out that way, but that's just the effect that Zayn seems to still have on him. He clears his throat before he has a chance to think about that. "So, can I get you something? A drink maybe? I have wine," Harry tells him, realizing he's been quite the inadequate host up until now.

Zayn arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow once more. "Is that another one of your bad jokes? You can't move."

Harry allows his jaw to dramatically drop because how dare he? "What do you mean _bad_ jokes? I am an excellent joke teller, I'll have you know. Probably the best you've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

Zayn snorts, still holding the ice that's a perfect solid weight against Harry's foot. "Is that what you call it?"

"You're just giving me shit." Harry nudges Zayn's shin with his good foot and smiles. Everything is starting to feel lighter, he thinks. "You used to love my jokes. Laughed at them all the time."

"They were so bad, I couldn't not, Harry. Besides, no one else was going to laugh. I couldn't have you getting embarrassed like that, now could I?" Harry playfully narrows his eyes at those words, and Zayn grins fondly? before shaking his head. "Nah, but seriously, you're not getting off this couch for a while. You're hurt."

"Zayn, I'm fine, really. It isn't that big of a-"

"You dropped a huge fucking glass vase on your foot, Harry. It is a big deal because you could have broken it for all we know. What were you thinking?"

"I-"

"You weren't, is what. What, did you not want me here that badly that seeing me at that door shocked you to your core? Is that it?" Zayn asks jokingly, his lips turned up a bit at the corners, but Harry's sure there's some seriousness behind that question. His brown eyes are trying to seek out the truth as he unobtrusively searches Harry's.

And, oh. Is that really what he thinks? Harry- he- well. As much as he hates to admit it, he knows that deep down no matter what he'd thought or said, he'd known that he'd wanted, hoped Zayn would come this week, even if he was aware that he'd have to suffer through observing all the hugs and kisses and doting looks that Zayn always focuses on Olivia, the ones that make it clear he wouldn't even notice that the room was burning if it was. He knows all of that, but he also knows that seeing Zayn standing there at that door earlier, with a small smile directed at Harry of all people after he'd sworn he wasn't coming, did surprise him more than when Liam told him he'd auditioned for the X Factor at fourteen years old, so Harry really doesn't know what to say, and just like that, the suffocating awkwardness is back.

Harry hates it, hates it with every fiber of his being, so it's only natural that he makes it worse, right?

"I need to go for a wee."

-

So he locks himself in the bathroom like the immature little child that he is (after Zayn insists that he has to take him there himself because Harry's already clumsy enough, there's no way he'll make it there on one foot, and _'Zayn, I think I can pee on my own, thank you very much,'_ ) and furiously begins tapping away at his phone screen, dialing the number of his self-declared Judas as Zayn waits outside the door.

She picks up after the fourth ring, but he clamours into the phone before she can get a word in. "You filthy liar! How could you do this to me?" He half-expects her to yell back at him with a _the hell are you talking about,_ but he hears her laugh instead, the sadist.

"Haz! I was just about to call you!" Olivia greets cheerfully like the double-crosser she is. "Given that warm welcome, I'm assuming my lovely boyfriend's already made an appearance. Give Zaynie a kiss for me, will you?" She's sick, absolutely sick.

Harry quickly disregards the images that flash through his mind and focuses on the matter at hand. "I will do no such thing! You told me he wasn't coming."

"I wanted you to be surprised, babe," she tells him calmly, and Harry can imagine her staring at her nails out of boredom right now as she waits for him to finish his tantrum before she can mock him for being dramatic then talk some sense into him. "Did it work?"

Sadly, he's not quite done yet. "Shut up. I hate you, and I hope you know that."

"Well, you're about to absolutely loathe me because I've got shit to tell you."

-

"What do you mean you're snowed in?"

The horror is evident in his voice, but he can't help it. She's fucking with him, right? She has to be, else he thinks he'll be sick.

"I mean exactly what I just said." Harry can feel the eye roll from here. "No driving on the roads until further notice. I'm sorry, loser."

"But it's barely even snowing." Harry glances out the window above the tub. The light snowfall from before has picked up since he last checked, but he's sure it's fine.

"Maybe where you are. It's insane over on this side though. I reckon Liam and Lou might be having the same problem, actually, since they're driving up from around the same area as me. Who knows? Have you tried ringing them as yet?"

"No, I've been a bit busy," he mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I was cleaning, and there may have been an accident. Besides, Liam would have already phoned if that were the case."

"Are you sure about that? You know how distracted he can get when Louis's added to the equation. Maybe they lost track of time and are on their way, but don't know that some of the roads have been closed because of all the snow. You should check in, babe, is all I'm saying."

"But- but they have to arrive today. Niall doesn't get in until tomorrow morning, and you're already not here. That just leaves me and-"

"Someone who used to be one of your closest friends," she finishes gently for him. "Hey, I know that you think things are all different between you two now, but why don't you look at this as an opportunity, Haz? Maybe you two can use this time to get to know each other again. Bond a little. It'll be ace."

"What?" He must not have heard her right.

"You heard me." Sometimes he wonders how she does it. "Now, get off the phone and go entertain him." His best friend sounds exasperated. "Wait, no. Call the boys first, then do that. Play nice. I have to go pull an Anna and pester Octavia until she builds a snowman with me."

"Liv-"

“I love you, Hazza.” Harry just can't seem to get a protest in around here, can he? What with the way Zayn and Olivia keep cutting his sentences short. "I'm sorry things aren't going according to plan, but I'll keep you updated and see you as soon as I can, alright? Bye."

The line goes dead before he can think of a scary enough threat, and that settles it. He's going to kill her. He can't even remember the last time he and Zayn were alone together before today, and things are different between them now, so what's he supposed to do? How's he supposed to act? What's he to say? What if he wants to kiss him?

He yanks the door open before he can have a panic attack, only to discover that Zayn isn't standing where he left him. Harry heaves a sigh. Whew, actually.

Maybe this is all just a fever dream. Maybe he was out in the snow with Gemma too long, and he got sick, and he isn't even here right now, and soon he'll wake in his bed at home, and find that none of today has even happened. He didn't completely embarrass himself in front of Zayn while concurrently causing himself pain. He didn't break one of his mum's favorite vases that she left here specifically because she didn't want Harry ruining it at home. He doesn't have to figure out ways to "entertain" Zayn without the use of his tongue. He-

"Good phone call?"

Jesus Christ! Harry jumps and finds Zayn to his left, a few feet away, his eyes on the wall. "I thought you were waiting at the door for me to finish."

"Wanted to give you privacy. Got bored." He shrugs, staring at the picture of Harry and his family with his eyebrows pulled together in concentration. "What did Liv say?"

"How'd you..." Zayn turns his gaze to him, and Harry trails off. So big, so brown. Maybe they're hypnotic. "She's uh, she's snowed in. Doesn't know when she'll be able to make it up here. Says it might be the same for Louis and Liam."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry exhales. "I should call them. Check to make sure." He still makes no effort to move, not that Zayn would let him with his foot, but.

Zayn bites at his lip, and they're talking quietly for some reason. "Alright. Well, I should get to cleaning that mess near the door. Could you show me where we're sleeping, so I could put my bags away first?"

"We're?" Harry very nearly chokes.

"Liv and I," Zayn clarifies.

Harry hadn't- he hadn't thought of that. He hadn't even known that Zayn was coming, so he hadn't considered the fact that he'd be sleeping with his girlfriend and possibly be _doing_ _things_ with her while Harry was in the next room, so this should be a fun week.

After he helps Harry to his room on the first floor, Zayn heads upstairs with directions to his and Olivia's on the second before he's off to clean up all the broken glass. Harry wasn't allowed to show him himself because _'I'm not carrying you up the stairs. Just tell me which one it is,'_ so, feeling helpless, he just prepares to call Liam as he puts his foot up like Zayn forced him to.

He runs a hand through his hair prior to selecting his contact and putting his mobile up to his ear. Liam doesn't answer the first two calls, and Harry's starting to feel a little anxious, but he picks up on the third, surprising Harry when he hears him finally shout irritably into the phone.

"What?"

Harry pauses, crinkling his eyebrows in confusion. That's not- "Louis?"

"No, it's Santa Claus. Obviously, it's me. Now, what do you want?" Apart from having that annoyed edge to his voice, his roommate also sounds breathless, and oh, Harry gets it now.

"Well, I _wanted_ to talk to Liam. 's why I called _him_."

"Yeah, well he's... rendered a bit speechless at the moment," Harry thinks he's smirking, "so you're stuck with me. Make it quick."

"First of all, gross. Stop going at it like rabbits. Second of all, aren't you two supposed to be here by now?"

"We, uh, had a bit of a snag," he can hear chuckling in the background and a smack accompanied with a _shush_ , "but we'll get back on the road in a mo and be there as soon as we can. Don't worry so much, Haz."

Don't worry so much? Don't worry so much? "Liv's not here yet," is all he can think to say even though he wants to scream at Louis and tell him that they need to be here NOW because he can't be alone with Zayn any longer. He's too nice and pretty and brilliant and protective and caring and pretty, so very pretty, and Harry isn't able to handle it all.

"Figured as much with the whole road situation."

"You know about that?"

"How could I not with Liam 'Daddy of the Group' Payne as my boyfriend? You know he's such an old woman. What? You are."

Harry sits up, laughing a bit at their usual banter. He really does miss them. "You sound calm. Why do you sound calm? Does that mean you guys'll be here soon, and I really do have nothing to worry about?"

"We've already made it through the worst of it, Harold, but we've still got a way to go. Why would you be worried?"

"Well," Harry starts, taking his volume a tad lower as he eyes the door, "do you know who is here?"

"Course I do," Louis snorts. "I'm the one who personally invited him given this whole week was all my brilliant idea. Thought for sure he'd be the last to get there before Niall though."

"You _what?_ Louis, how could you do that to me when you know about-"

" _Relax._ I hadn't known yet," Oh, right. Harry hadn't told him until later that night, "and how was I supposed to know that things were going to turn out this way? I'm not the weather man. You'll be fine. Li and I will be there to save your awkward arse before you know it. In the mean time, watch a film or something. Read a book, organize your socks, I don't know. Just let me go back to what I was doing."

Harry snorts this time and wrinkles his nose. "You mean Liam?"

"Fuck you. Wait, no. That's actually what Liam's about to do to m-"

Harry hangs up and falls back onto the bed. Louis's a prat. He scrubs his hands down his face and releases a breath as he stares up at the ceiling. What now?

-

He wakes with a start.

Shit. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Shit shit shit. Zayn probably hates him now, thinks Harry didn't want to be alone with him for much longer because he can't bear to spend time with him anymore. Harry groans, and his foot is starting to blindingly hurt again.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and huffs and pouts and sulks. He wants to whine to Olivia or Louis right about now as they coddle him, but sadly, neither of them are here at the moment, he thinks. He's not entirely sure. He doesn't even know what time it is, actually, but he can see that it's dark outside now, so maybe Louis is, but he doesn't think so because if it were so, he'd probably have woken Harry up the minute he arrived. He's so needy.

Harry feels groggy, and his muscles ache. He thinks he needs a pill and that cuddle, please. "Hey, Zayn?" He calls out before he has the chance to think better of it. He waits a tick for a response.

"Yeah?" Zayn asks, poking his head through the slightly open door. He's out of his pea coat and dark jeans and boots now and wearing sweats and a worn out T-shirt, and he looks so soft, and Harry wants him so bad even though he's still trying to make it out of the haze of drowsiness his nap left him in.

"Hey, I'm sorry I left you all alone for I don't even know how long. I didn't mean to um, fall asleep. I guess I was just tired from the long drive and cleaning and everything, and I didn't realize it, and I'm sorry, really sorry."

Zayn lightly smiles at his rambling of an apology. "'s alright. Not a big deal, Harry. You feeling better? Need anything?"

"No, I'm fine." Why did he just say that? Could his stupid liar mouth quit it for a second? He doesn't want to be a bother to Zayn, but he's actually in physical pain here. "Actually, wait, no. My foot has kind of started to hurt again, and I wanted a painkiller, if it's not too much trouble. They're um- there should be some in the cabinet in the bathroom."

"It's no trouble at all, babe. That all?" Babe, wow. Zayn's the same as Olivia in the sense that they call everyone 'babe,' and Zayn used to call Harry it all the time, having it slip off his tongue like it was actually the name Harry was given at birth, but things are different now, and it's been a while since he's been on the receiving end of one of Zayn's 'babe's.

Zayn, who is just staring at him right now with those big brown eyes that keep saying things, and dammit, how's Harry supposed to concentrate? "Harry?" What was the question again?

 _Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Look at this as an opportunity. Maybe you two can use this time to get to know each other again. Bond a little, watch a film or something,_ Olivia and Louis' words ring out in his head.

"Sorry, I was just wondering, did you maybe want to watch a film with me or something?"

-

"Remind me why we're watching this."

Harry lightheartedly scowls at Zayn as he takes the mug he hands him and presses play. "Because it's great, and I love it, and you, _Aladdin_ , already got to choose. Now it's my turn."

Zayn sits back in his spot on the couch and bumps Harry's shoulder with his own. "Why'd you say it like that, you git? Aladdin's fucking sick."

"Is that why you've copied his hairstyle?" Harry drawls. "Zayn, just admit that you're in love with him."

"Doesn't seem ideal being in love with yourself, mate." Zayn winks at him as he puts his arm back around Harry and tugs him closer so that he's on laying his chest.

So they may have somehow mysteriously ended up sitting too close to each other during the first movie, and Harry's head may have accidentally slipped and landed on Zayn's shoulder, and somehow they may have mysteriously ended up cuddling, but it's okay because it's platonic and fine, and they used to do it all the time without it meaning anything, and Harry's not thinking about kissing him at all. Shut up, he's not.

"Are you really calling yourself Aladdin right now? You are such a dork, and what do you mean by that? You're vain. I thought you already were in love with yourself."

"Fuck off." Zayn pinches Harry's side but laughs, all crinkly eyes and smile lines.

"You love me, really," Harry mumbles absently and sips at his drink, nuzzling closer.

"Is that what you tell yourself?"

No, Harry tries to stay as far away from thoughts like that as possible, but. "Only because it's true."

"Whatever you say, babe."

"Oh, just shush and look at him go," Harry mutters with absolutely no heat behind his words whatsoever. He shifts in Zayn's hold, and, in turn, feels his arm wrap tighter around him. Probably just a reflex. "He's way cooler than Aladdin," he says just to yank Zayn's chain who tugs the hair at the nape of his neck for it. Harry tries not think of what that almost causes in his pants when he looks up to find Zayn smirking, eyes still glued to the screen playing _Hercules._

Yeah, so they decided to have a Disney movie marathon of sorts, sue them. Zayn's a sucker for them because of his sisters, and Harry, well, he's a sucker for Zayn and cheesy love stories he'll never be able to relate to. What was he going to do, say no?

"Do you want more popcorn?" Zayn speaks up about halfway through the film.

"No, I'm good, thanks."

He taps Harry's thigh twice. "Alright, but I do. Up. Come on. Up, up, up." He repeats the action.

"But I don't want to move. I'm comfy." _You're_ comfy, and I can't let you go now. It's been months, almost a whole year, actually, since we did something like this, since you looked at me like this, since you held me like this, and this could all be a twisted dream for all I know, and I just can't-

"Harry, come on. Gerroff."

"But _Zayn,_ " he drags his name out. "My foot." He exaggeratedly pouts and wiggles it for good measure. "You're not going to force an injured person to move, are you?"

"Nice try. Now, up."

"Mean." Harry pokes his chest but sits up, allowing Zayn to go to the kitchen to get more popcorn, taking the two empty mugs that occupied the coffee table with him. He returns with the bowl and refilled cups of hot chocolate after a while, and Harry's a bit jel that he could carry it all so easily, and he doesn't look at the way the tattoos on Zayn's caramel skin shift with every move of his arm once.

"So how's your foot, really?" Zayn asks after he hands Harry his mug, places his own on the table, and sets the bowl in his lap, immediately wrapping his arm easily around Harry's waist like he was made to do so. Another thing Harry has to try not to think about, and he wasn't actually being serious when he whined to Zayn about his foot a minute ago, but he appreciates the concern.

He smiles softly. "Better. Much better. I was joking just then, so you don't actually have to worry, but thanks. You really are being lovely tonight, aren't you?" Harry smirks and takes a sip of his drink to have something to focus on other than those eyes. Zayn's eyebrows pinch together then, and he opens his mouth to reply then shakes his head, like he thinks better of it. "What? What is it?"

"Hm?"

"You wanted to say something," Harry tells him around a yawn. He rubs at his eye tiredly. He must have napped for too long because he's starting to feel sluggish again. "What is it?"

"We're friends, right?"

Harry freezes in his spot, gulps. This took a weird turn. He hopes he didn't offend Zayn by saying what he did. He knows things have changed and that tonight there's been a shift, but they still haven't exactly been on the best of terms lately. "Course we are."

"Then why'd we grow apart, Harry?"

This time Harry really does choke. "Excuse me?"

Zayn rolls his eyes, shakes his head and releases a sigh. "Never mind."

Harry runs a hand through his hair and tries not to start hyperventilating. "No. No, I heard you. Just- what do you mean exactly?"

Zayn gives him another steely look. "You know what I mean, Harry," he says softly. "You started acting weird with me when Liv and I started going out." Okay, breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. "At first I thought maybe you were just being protective or that you didn't think I was good enough for your best friend or something."

Holy shit, breathe in, breathe out. "Zayn, what're you- I could never-"

"I know." Zayn interrupts gently. "I know, Harry. Then I thought maybe you had feelings for her and you didn't like that she ended up with me instead." Harry scrunches his face up. Why does everyone think that? Olivia's just his best friend. She's like a sister to Harry, and he wouldn't fall in love with her. Gross. This isn't a book, people. Zayn laughs, and it's beautiful, and Harry loves it, and Harry loves him, and he wants to hear that laugh for as long as his ears permit him to, but Zayn cuts it short. "Yeah, crazy. I know you don't. I just thought. Maybe." Zayn bites down on his lip, and Harry loses it, before he goes on. "Then I thought maybe it was 'cause you just didn't like me much anymore, so I gave you your space too." Zayn looks over at him then, so big, so brown, and shakes his head. "But you seem pretty tolerable of me tonight, so I'm not sure that's the reason anymore. So what is it, Harry? Because I can't figure it out."

He- deep breaths, Harry, deep breaths. He sighs, pulls away a bit because he can't have Zayn's hands touching him, touching him, distracting him, when he tries to say this right now, tries to find the right words.

"I am so sorry, Zayn. I didn't mean to- I hadn't." Breathe in, breathe out. "I don't think you're tolerable, and I don't like you either. I _love_ you, Zayn, and I could never not love you because I've probably loved you since the moment we met. Who doesn't? You're an amazing person and an amazing friend, and you were always just that to me, and I'm sorry that I haven't really returned that favor in the last few months, but- um," in, out, "you see, it's like, when we first met, you were- you weren't um, dating my best friend, but then suddenly you were, and suddenly we weren't allowed to do the things that we used to anymore because you were doing it with her, which is- it was fine, really, is still fine, but I didn't really feel like you needed me anymore, you know? Even though Liv told me that you probably did, I just, I don't know. I felt lonely and I missed you, but I tried to convince myself that I didn't need you until I didn't, I guess, if that makes sense. I tried to give you guys your space, tried to give _you_ your space, and like you said, you gave me mine, so now we're here."

"Now we're here," Zayn echoes, and Harry can't figure out how he feels, his voice not giving anything away, and he's not brave enough to chance a look at him right now.

He stares at the rings on his right hand instead, twists one of them. "I know. I know it's a sorry excuse, and I know us drifting apart is all my fault, Zayn, and it's much too late to say sorry now, but I am. I had no idea you'd been dwelling on this all this time. Thought you'd gotten over it from like, the start. Didn't think it mattered, really, because you had Liv and Niall and Liam and then Louis and all your other friends and the people you love. I-"

"You're an idiot," Zayn snaps, completely pulling away then, and no, that's not what's supposed to happen. Harry's opening up. He's being as honest with him as he can be. Come back.

"What?"

"You're a fucking idiot, Harry. Why didn't you just come talk to me? I would have understood."

"Zayn, I-"

"You talked to Liv. Nothing changed between you two, so what the fuck?"

"That was different. She's different," Harry tries to articulate, but he feels like his throat's closing up.

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"Well, for one thing, she hunted me down and threatened me to get me to open up to her," Harry begins slowly and gets half the smile he wanted in response, "but also because I've known her forever, Zayn. I've been through all her boyfriends. I was used to her ditching me for them, doing what she did with me, but in a romantic way, with them... I wasn't with you, and you're special, Zayn." Harry timidly reaches for his hand. He can't believe he's doing this or saying this, any of this, but he is, and Zayn is staring down at it with something unrecognizable flashing in his eyes. "You're special to me. You always have been."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." He doesn't pull his hand away though, and his tone has lost its edge, so Harry takes that as a good sign.

"No, I'm not. You probably still don't get it, and you don't have to, but I just, I didn't want my stupid, dramatic feelings to come between you and Liv, okay? I wanted you to be happy, Zayn."

Zayn tugs his bottom lip between his teeth again, shakes his head. "Would've been happier if I had you,” he whispers, looking up then, and Harry could cry. He could cry because Zayn actually said those words. He could cry because of _how_ Zayn those words. Harry could cry, and his heart could burst.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you arse. Come here." Harry's pulled into a hug before he can even think to respond, and he melts. "Missed you."

"I missed you more," Harry sighs and honestly lets out as he holds onto Zayn tighter. This is not at all how he imagined his first night at the cabin would go, but he's more than glad that this is how it did. It's like some weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Not all of it, but just enough for now.

"I love you so much," is what he wish could add to get rid of the rest, but who is he kidding? He can't say that. Even tired, almost entirely trapped in that same haze of drowsiness from earlier that has made this entire conversation feel unreal, he knows that he can't, not aloud anyway, so he pushes himself closer to Zayn as his eyes focus on the long forgotten telly, and he chooses to sing along to Megara's powerful ballad instead, the one that Harry can't help but think perfectly embodies all that he's feeling at the moment as he's wrapped tightly around Zayn.

Zayn, the one he's apparently gotten back. Zayn, his brown-eyed boy, his Aladdin, his Hercules. Zayn, the one that he's in-

_”No chance no way I won't say it, no no_  
_This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love  
At least out loud I won't say I'm in love"_

He can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: How many references of the song should I write in this chapter?  
> Also me: Yes
> 
> So, liked it? Loathed it?


	4. when I run out of road, you bring me home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry struggles with dealing with his feelings for Zayn. Luckily, he has his own personal cockblock.

On Saturday, Harry wakes with a jolt.

Almost immediately, he registers the fact that his bed feels different, and for some reason, his whole body feels cramped. To add to that, it's as if a ton of bricks are being thrown at his head when almost as soon as he's aware that he's awake, images of smiling brown eyes and pretty lips stained with wine unexpectedly start to flood his mind.

 _Oh_ _God._ He groans. He was dreaming about Zayn again, wasn't he? It was a nice dream, not as romantic or explicit as others he's had, but lovely nevertheless. It's strange. It seems that his dreams are beginning to feel more and more real everyday. Maybe he should see someone about that, he thinks as he decidedly chooses to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, it appears that he's still dreaming because, "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He hears an all too familiar voice ask from above him because of course he wouldn't let Harry go back to bed.

He moans groggily and slowly peels one eye open after rubbing at it with a hand, however, he hurriedly squeezes it back shut when he's met with a too bright light reflecting off his roommate, making him look like some sort of angel, which he's obviously not if he's waking Harry at this hour... whatever hour that may be.

"Go away, Louis," he mutters as he turns his head away from him and shoves his face further into his pillow that, weirdly enough, seems to be hugging him back. "I don't have class until later today, so let me sleep."

"Do you now?" Louis muses, and a smile can be heard in his voice, which Harry doesn't understand one bit because it's true. Why would he be smiling at Harry having a late class? That's weird. He's weird.

Someone else clears their throat, and, "It's actually almost well into the afternoon already," Harry listens to Liam say. Liam? When did he get here, and what do they both want? He's woken with a headache for some reason, and he just wants to sleep. Is that too much to ask for?

"Also, we're on break, but I guess you forgot about that with the night you must have had," another person laughs bright and exuberantly, and that could really only be one ray of sunshine taking the form of a person: Niall. He's here too? Who else has come to Harry's bedroom to apparently just disrupt his sleep, and what does he mean by that?

"What?" Harry turns to face them again, willing his eyes to stay open this time and focus on their amused expressions. What's with them? "What are you even-" A highly unanticipated, sharp snore comes from under him then, effectively managing to cut him off, and okay, what the hell? Pillows don't do that. He finally allows his eyes to roam around his room, and he discovers that that's not where he is at all. The cabin. "Shit. It wasn't a dream." He doesn't know how to feel about that. Or he does, but he'd rather not say.

" _Now_ he's awake," Louis tells the other two with a smirk. "Had a nice night, Styles?"

Obviously he did, but when did he fall asleep? He tries to rack his brain for the events of last night.

Okay, so he definitively remembers Zayn dragging him to the kitchen after _Hercules,_ but after that everything's a bit fuzzy. He knows there was wine, if the empty bottle on the coffee table is any indication, and films, but right now, he's pretty much coming up blank. It's fine. It's understandable. He just woke up. He'll get there.

"Shut up," he replies a beat too late. "How'd you even get in?" Harry yawns and stretches and attempts to untangle himself from Zayn, whose arms he just woke up in. He tries his best to stand without waking or accidentally hurting him, while also being mindful of his injured foot. Unfortunately, it isn't really working out.

"Door was open. You should really think about locking it next time," Niall advises with an easy smile, offering a hand. "Y'all right?" He asks after Harry lets out a wince because he chooses to stand on his foot rather than falling over.

"Yeah, I just- I accidentally hurt myself yesterday. You lads know how I am." They all nod at that, putting in their own variations of _’hell_ _yeah_ , _we_ _do,’_ and Harry aims not to pout. He's not that clumsy, is he? "Yeah, so that's why the door wasn't locked. Zayn and I were just caught up in all the excitement, I guess," he explains with a shrug.

"That so?" That's Louis again, and Harry doesn't like the way he's looking at him right now, like he knows something when he doesn't. Or well, he does, but not about last night. Last night was special, at least the parts of it that Harry can recall at the moment, and he thinks that he'll keep it safely tucked into the pocket of his heart for a while. He's not planning on telling anyone about it, not even Louis who's turning to Liam now to run his hand through his hair. "Liam, would you be a dear and go with Nialler to take all our things to our rooms?" He fixes his gaze back on Harry. "In the mean time, Harold? A word?"

Harry gulps and unconsciously grabs at a curl before he lets his hand fall. His hair probably looks like shit. "You know, I'd rather not. I mean, I just woke up, and I've got a headache, and I haven't brushed my teeth, and-" Louis simply looks at him with an arched eyebrow. "Yeah, okay."

Harry directs Liam to his and Louis's room upstairs then and tells Niall where his is and that they'll have to share because he hadn't anticipated Zayn's arrival and all. Niall shrugs, and soon, he and Liam are both on their way to putting their bags away while Harry and Louis have a chat that he'd really prefer not having ever in the kitchen.

He virtually has to hop there, however, because Louis's not as amazing as Zayn is in the sense that he won't spoil Harry and likes to watch him suffer as long as he gets a good laugh out of it. Harry glares at him after a solid minute of listening to him double over in convulsions.

"You're a horrible human being."

"Yes, but I'm your horrible human being, aren't I?" Louis grins wickedly, and Harry rolls his eyes and keeps moving, using the wall to steady him.

"What a shame that would be if you were. Thankfully, you're Liam's problem, not mine."

Louis gives him an affronted stare and scoffs. "Just for that, keep on hopping, froggy boy. And to think, I was just starting to feel sorry for you."

Dammit. " _Louuu_ ," Harry whines, producing his best petulant look because he may have not wanted to be a bother to Zayn, but he has no problem being one to Louis.

Louis sighs deeply like he's so horribly put out, and, "Come on, you big baby," he says, slipping his arm under him and wrapping Harry's around his shoulder to help him the rest of the way. "Now, about last night-"

"We weren't doing anything, I swear!" Harry instantly, quite loudly informs him because they're in the kitchen now, and he's sure the others have already gone up and can't hear him. "We just fell asleep on the couch. That's it." He hopes.

"Right." Louis nods slowly, letting go of him to shoot him that calculated look. He folds his arms over his chest while Harry wobbles over to sit on a breakfast stool. "You know you can't make a move on him, no matter how tempting it is," he says getting straight to the point.

"I wasn't! I wouldn't," Harry protests, already starting to feel sick to his stomach. This is exactly why he'd stayed away all this time. He wouldn't make a move on Zayn. He can't, because Olivia's his best friend, his most favorite person in the world, and he doesn't ever want to hurt her. Besides, if he did, everyone would know then, and that would just make things more harrowingly awkward than they already were, so Harry can't have anyone, under any circumstances, finding out about his feelings, especially Zayn and Olivia. That would thoroughly ruin everything. Someone would end up being hurt. Someone had to, and Harry, being the nice guy he likes to think he is, can't have that, now can he? (Even if said hurt person would more than likely end up being Mr Nice Guy himself.) "Olivia's my best friend, Louis. I wouldn't do that to her. You know that."

Louis shakes his head at that and sighs defeatedly, uncrossing his arms. "I know, Harry. I do, but that's not the way it looked, yeah? Niall may have been joking, but that's 'cause he doesn't know what's really going on, at least on your on end, but what if that was Liv walking in and not us? How do you think she would have felt seeing you two like that?" Harry bites down on his lip. He feels awful, and he doesn't know how to reply. "Now, you wanna tell me what happened?"

 _Not_ _really._ "Well, you know. I- we, um-" Harry tries to spell it out. He's having some trouble though, so he blows a raspberry and shakes his hair out, flicking it to the side as he takes a deep breath and moves his hand up to his mouth to tug on his bottom lip. How does he tell Louis that he's not entirely sure right now? "We just- we just hung out, alright? It was nice. We watched films together and drank wine and talked and laughed and cleared a lot of stuff up, and it was lovely."

"Is that it?" Louis asks, narrowing his eyes.

Harry wishes he knew, but he's not entirely sure he can tell what actually happened apart from what he may have been dreaming last night. "Yes... He said he missed me, Lou. That's great, innit? Can you believe it? All this time I thought it was only me and that he didn't care much that we drifted apart. He certainly didn't act like it, but he told me that he was just giving me my space because he thought that was what I wanted."

Louis lets up at those words, giving him a sympathetic look. "Oh, Harry." He steps over to draw him into a tight hug. It doesn't quite fill him with the warmth he can remember Zayn's did last night after their little breakthrough, but it's alright. He happily settles into it nonetheless. "You're so gone, it's ridiculous."

"I know," Harry sighs. He does, but even though things are still different than before, they seem better now, and he made it through an entire night of being with Zayn alone as his friend, so he can make it through more, right?

"Gone where?"

Apparently not. "Zayn," Harry breathes out, stiffening when he sees him standing in the doorway all handsomely disheveled because it's all coming back to him now. It's as if a video montage starts rolling in his head, and his breath catches.

Last night, after _Hercules,_ Zayn didn't immediately want to go to bed. He insisted that they needed to eat something before they did and popcorn _’just_ _wasn't_ _going_ _to_ _cut_ _it,’_ so he and Harry ate cereal at the counter at midnight like he said he and Olivia always do when they stay at each other's. That's why he remembers Zayn dragging him to kitchen and him smiling at him all nice and pretty like he always used to.

Harry pulls away from Louis, straightens. "Good morning. We didn't wake you, did we?"

After "dinner," Zayn finally discovered the wine Harry'd found earlier in the cupboard and jokingly scolded Harry for not telling him about it sooner. They went back to the couch to talk then, bottle of wine in hand and decided it wouldn't hurt to stay up a bit longer. It's not like they had anything to do the next day. They both took turns drinking from it as they spoke about about how finals had gone, about what they'd done on break so far, about their friends and families back home, about Liv and Louis and Liam and Niall, about all the things they'd missed out on in each other's lives. (They regrettably seemed to have downed the whole thing, so Harry's headache makes sense.)

Zayn smiles softly at him, and it's probably only because he just woke up, but there it is. There's that want and ache again, the one Harry can't help, the one not unlike last night's, the one he unmistakably remembers feeling stabbing at his heart when he felt Zayn lightly press a kiss to his temple, mumbling something incoherently as he drifted off to sleep first with his hand pressed to Harry's hip and his chin atop his head. Harry didn't fall asleep for another hour or so, despite how tired he was because if he wasn't absolutely certain before, last night made sure he definitely is now. He's so fucking in love with him.

"Morning, babe. Thought I heard voices. When did you get here, Lou?"

Louis subtly raises an eyebrow at Harry before answering. "It's practically noon, wankers, and not long ago, really. Liam and I found Niall sitting in his car when we got here because you two couldn't be bothered to open the door, only for us to find that it was actually unlocked the whole time, but if we hadn't, who knows how long we would've been waiting out there before you both stopped slobbering all over each other and woke up. Seriously, what is with all the romance?"

"Romance?" Harry squeaks. What? No. There's been no-

"Dinner, wine, a fire, popcorn, films, falling asleep together after. The works, from the looks of it. I'm just glad I wasn't here to see it for myself and only got to witness the aftermath, which wasn't much better with how disgustingly adorable you both looked on that couch, but," he shrugs then smirks. "Care to explain? Thought you already had a girlfriend, Malik."

"Louis-" Harry starts to reprimand him because he already told him that nothing happened, but stops when he hears Zayn laugh.

"Shut up, Louis. Firstly, 'dinner' was just cereal, you idiot, so if that's your idea of romance, Liam's a very lucky man, and secondly, sounds like you're just jealous."

"Jealous?" Both Louis' eyebrows go up at that. "Of what, do tell."

Zayn shrugs and moves past him, walking over to sit beside Harry on a stool. "That you and Liam could never and that now that Harry and I are good mates again, you guys don't get to be Larry anymore." He throws an arm over Harry's shoulder, and Harry tenses. He hates himself for it.

Louis rolls his eyes and shakes his head in mock disbelief. "That's bullshit. You're bullshit," he says, pointing a finger at Zayn who laughs again.

"Am I?" He grins, allowing his tongue to endearingly poke out between his teeth. Harry loves the mere sight of it, especially at this proximity.

"Very much so."

"Oh, c'mon. Didn't you miss me, Lou?"

Louis makes an unbothered face and shrugs. "Can't say that I did, no."

Zayn chuckles, releasing Harry to rest his chin in the palm of his hand. Harry tries not to frown at the lost of contact. "But I missed you. Gonna help me clean the kitchen while we catch up?"

"Yes, because there's nothing I'd delight in doing more, Zayn," Louis drawls, but Harry can tell that he's trying not to smile. Those two love each other, really.

"Actually," he cuts in because _he_ wants to banter with Zayn like that, "you don't have to, Lou. I can help Zayn. We were supposed to do it from last-"

"No, no." Louis provides him a knowing look. "He asked me, and you should get off that foot. How'd you hurt it, anyway?"

Did he just- Harry huffs because he knows what Louis's trying to do, and it's not fair. He wants to keep him away from Zayn. The faith he has in him.

"I'm sure Zayn'll tell you all about it. I'm going to go shower," Harry says curtly because he feels childish, and he wants to stomp his foot in frustration right about now. He just wants Zayn.

Louis gives him that same annoying _are you sure you want to be doing that_ look for the rest of the day each time Harry and Zayn do something even remotely affectionate, so to appease him and avoid conflict, Harry does his best to keep his distance from Zayn again since apparently that's what Louis thinks is best.

Things are still much better than before though. They smile at each other and tease and laugh at the other's jokes, and everything is alright, Harry thinks. Not as great as last night, but he's okay with this being all the Zayn he gets from now on.

The boys decide to spend the day hanging out on the veranda all afternoon talking shit and drinking beers. At some point, they end up watching Louis and Niall hop over the railing to go down to the lake and try to skip stones in the water as Liam does his best to count who gets more points from where he's sitting like Louis told him he had to because _’can't you see, it's jolly important, Leeyum.'_ Zayn leaves at another point to call Olivia, Harry goes to take a nap in his bed at a next, and later on, they all bring their duvets and pillows out to the living area to watch films and cuddle up together with a fire going.

It's all very nice. Harry's enjoying this time with his friends very much, and he doesn't even blink once when when he chooses not to sit next to Zayn for fear of ending up the same way as last night, Zayn just fits into Niall's side instead. He wakes up on the couch the next morning again, feeling more cramped than before, but this time he doesn't have Zayn holding him to make up for it. Niall does, and it's fine. He's fine.

Who is he kidding? He blames Louis.

-

On Sunday, he decides to get out of the cabin. He's tired of feeling cooped up.

It's almost the end of the day, and he thinks it's been a day well spent. Liam and Harry started it off by making all of them breakfast this morning. Well, not _all_ because unsurprisingly, Zayn was asleep until almost noon, but the others quite enjoyed it. Harry and Niall messed around with Niall's guitar a bit after. Zayn woke up just around then and joined in with the four of their singing. Needless to say, Harry died. Louis drove them into town for lunch, and Harry ended up being pressed up against Zayn the whole ride going and coming back, but it's not like he noticed. Overall, it's been a good day.

Now, they're back at the cabin, and Niall's down for a kip, Liam's dragged Louis out for a jog, Zayn's locked away in his room, and Harry's zipping up his coat. He's practically shaking with excitement. He can't wait to get out there to-

"Why are you wearing that?"

He very nearly jumps. Harry was sure he was upstairs reading. He's not used to him popping up all the time like this just for a simple chat. "Um, because it's cold outside, and I'll freeze if I don't?" He answers unsurely, looking over at Zayn who's standing in the doorway of Harry's room with his arms crossed. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and how does he always look so good? It really isn't fair.

"You're funny, but seriously."

Harry frowns, reaching for the camera on his bed to turn it on. "I'm going out back by the lake to see if I can get some pictures of the sun setting behind the mountains and of the water. I tried yesterday off the veranda, but it didn't quite come out the way I'd wanted."

Zayn snorts humourlessly. Harry doesn't like it. He wants Zayn to laugh and smile at him for real. "I don't think so."

His eyebrows furrow as he inserts a memory card into his camera, hoping that it has enough space left on it. He begins to distractedly play around with the settings before bringing it up to his eye to take a test shot of outside through the window. "No, really. It was all-"

"I _meant_ ," Zayn sighs, "you're not going out there, Harry."

Oh.

 _Ohh._ " _Zayn_ ," Harry whines, giving him an irked look. What is with everyone always trying to tell him what to do these past two days? Just because they're all older doesn't mean they necessarily know what's best for Harry. He knows they mean well, but it's getting annoying.

"You're already moving around way more than you're supposed to. I'm not letting you," Zayn says simply, and he shrugs so uncaringly that it sparks something inside Harry.

"Excuse me? You're not letting me?" He repeats incredulously, and Zayn must see that something flashes in Harry's eyes then because he unfolds his arms and lets out an even breath.

"Maybe that was a wrong choice of words. Your foot still needs to heal, and I don't want you going out there and getting hurt again."

Harry should probably feel pleased, happy that Zayn still cares so much after he's practically been a jerk to him this whole time, but "That's not really your problem if I do," he tells him before he can help it. Zayn's eyes glint this time, and shit, he didn't mean to say it like that. He doesn't want them to argue. It gets hard when they argue, so he shakes his head and focuses back on his camera. "Either way, my foot is feeling much better already, almost normal."

"Uh huh. Right."

Harry fights against the urge to present him with an eye roll for his tone because that won't help anything. "You can come with me if you're so worried," he mutters sullenly, an edge to his voice as well. Is this what they're doing now?

"Maybe I will," Zayn shoots back, and wait, Harry didn't actually mean that. Crap. Louis's going to throw a fit.

"Good," he retorts despite himself.

"Great."

"Amazing!"

"Fantastic!"

"Wonderful!"

"Brilliantly so!"

"Are you coming or what?" He really does roll his eyes this time around. They're both too stubborn for their own good.

"I'll get my coat!"

So he guesses they're doing this.

-

"Are you quite done yet?" Zayn asks irritably, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. He's crowded next to Harry for warmth, and his leg is jiggling, making it hard for Harry to focus on his target. They're out back near the lake with snowflakes falling lightly from the sky, and Harry thinks that the pictures are going to be great, if only Zayn would _quit_ _it_.

He places his hand on Zayn's hip to end the shaking before he can stop himself. "Depends. Are you done doing that and complaining?"

"It's freezing out here," Zayn grouches, pushing his body closer to Harry, his hand wrapped around his waist to hold him up.

"Your fault for wanting to look good rather than bringing a warm enough coat," Harry bitches back, "and maybe I would be finished already if you didn't keep distracting me and messing up my shots."

Zayn's silent for a minute, and Harry hopes that he didn't hurt his feelings by saying that because he didn't mean to. He's been acting like a brat all evening, but he doesn't really want Zayn to be upset with him. "You think I look good?"

Harry tautens, pauses to bring his camera down a slight. He hadn't- he hadn't realized what he was saying, really, but it's fine. He goes back to taking his pictures. "Of course I do," he says calmly. "Who doesn't?" He can tell that Zayn is still staring back at him with raised brows, and he doesn't want that look right now, so he decides to alter the awkward atmosphere he created. "I know you certainly do. You have to with that model pout you always walk into a room with."

Zayn blinks then, and Harry hadn't realized how close they were standing until now. Did he just feel Zayn's eyelashes on his cheek? "What? What pout?"

"This one." Harry does an exaggerated version of it, squinting his eyes and pushing his lips forward.

Zayn laughs entrancingly and pushes at him for it, and Harry deflates. How could he ever keep up the act of being an ass to him? Being an ass to Zayn. Zayn who's so, so great, who's made him feel like he's been brought home. "You're an idiot. I don't look like that."

"I think you do." Harry nods seriously before turning back to the slightly less stunning view and snapping one more picture. He'd like to try getting a few more angles, but he can't exactly do so with his foot, and besides, Zayn is cold, and so is he, even if he'll never admit it, so they should get inside. "Done," he says with a satisfied smile. He looks down at it then over at Zayn who meets his eyes. "Are you happy now, Zayn?"

"Yes, I'm very happy, Harry," he replies with a small smile of his own. He pokes his tongue out to wet his bottom lip, and Harry has to try not to follow the action because friends don't look at each other's lips, do they?

He gazes back down at the camera for something else to look at and starts going through the other photos he took. He chose the perfect time to come outside. That much is clear when browsing through them. The pictures all have a golden glow to them with the sky painted in different vibrant colors. Harry loves it.

"You're amazing," Zayn mumbles, seemingly out of nowhere, and Harry freezes once more. He thinks that Zayn notices because his eyes widen a fraction, and he moderately backs away from him then.

_Wait, don't do that._

_“_ What?" He asks when he manages to find his voice.

"The pictures, I mean," Zayn rapidly rectifies. He peers back over his shoulder to look down at the camera. "You're amazing at taking pictures, Harry."

"Oh." Harry furrows his eyebrows, reaches his hand up to shake out his hair. Yeah, that makes more sense. "Nah, you're just saying that."

Zayn shakes his head and moves his arm from around Harry's waist. He slowly glides his hand up his back, igniting chills all over Harry as he does so. "No, they're great, seriously, and I don't lie," he says, gazing into Harry's eyes with his mesmerizing brown ones. So, so brown, and he doesn't, does he? Zayn's never been anything short of honest with Harry. With anyone, really. He's just so real and unapologetically himself. He's such a- such a sweet creature, and Harry loves him.

"Thanks," he mutters, trying to keep how affected that made him off his face and out of his voice. "You're amazing too," and he can't lie either. Not about something like that.

Zayn pinches his eyebrows together. "At what?"

 _At anything, everything. “_ Just in general." Harry shrugs, going for nonchalant. "I'm glad we're friends again." He fondly bumps his hip against Zayn's prior to turning his attention back to his camera one last time. He turns it off and covers it with its lens cap. He's glad Zayn came out here with him.

"Aw, Harry, you're such a cuppycake," Zayn coos obnoxiously, completely ruining the moment. He echoes the action with a small smirk, and he's looking at Harry again, and Harry can see the world in his eyes, the real golden sun in his smile, and he doesn't even mind.

-

On Monday, he wakes to the sight of Niall's face, which is great. He's nice to look at, but he doesn't set fire to anything in Harry.

Harry still presses a kiss to his forehead before getting out of bed though because Niall's adorable. How could he not?

He then begins his day. He takes a piss, brushes his teeth and hops into the shower. After he finishes, he heads back to his room (with only a little limping because he's been using ice packs and painkillers regularly like the others keep reminding him to) where he finds one of the boys standing fully dressed in front of the door, looking like he's contemplating if he should knock or not. _Wow, he's actually awake._

”Good morning."

Zayn whips his head in Harry's direction at that moment, and a look that Harry can't decipher graces his features for a minute. He's never been ashamed of his body, but now that he's standing in front of Zayn who has that look on his face with only a towel around his waist, he's starting to feel a bit self-conscious. He thinks he catches Zayn giving him a once over followed by a gulp, but it's most likely just his imagination torturing him again. It does that a lot.

"Uh, hey. Morning, Harry."

Harry steps closer to him so that they're not standing as far apart, but he believes he sees Zayn take a step back at that. His brow furrows. That's different. Everything was all right when they went to bed. Did something happen? "What's up? Something wrong?"

"What? No. I was just- um." Zayn rubs at the back of his neck, blows a breath out. He looks fairly on edge. Harry's starting to get worried. "I don't know. Did you maybe wanna..."

"Yeah?" Harry asks, aiming to be encouraging, but it doesn't seem to work because Zayn just looks even more fidgety now. He wishes he could do something about it, something to ease the tension that he can see in him, but he can't think of anything that's non-sexual right now.

Zayn squeezes at his neck before letting go and straightening. "Liv called."

"Oh?" Harry doesn't know what else to say to that. Olivia called him last night too, and she and Zayn phone each other whenever they can, so he doesn't see the big deal, really.

"I have to go into town. She thinks she'll be able to get here soon, so she wants me to grab some things for her from the store. Would you maybe like to go with me?"

Did he hear that right? "You want me to go with you to the store?" Harry needs to clarify.

Zayn swallows. "Yeah, I mean, we could also, like, I don't know, grab breakfast, or like brunch, if you wanted."

"Brunch?"

He nods, looking nervous again. Harry doesn't get it. "Only if you want to."

"Are you being serious?"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because it seems to put Zayn even more on edge, and he starts coming off defensive. "Do you not want to?"

"No, I do. I just- aren't you going to make a big fuss about my foot?"

Zayn glimpses at it. "It's better now, yeah? Or like, not as bad? I don't mind helping you out. I just don't want to go alone, if I'm being honest."

Again, that makes more sense. "What about the others?"

His expression is one of confusion now. "What about them?"

Harry barely manages to suppress his grin. "Why aren't you inviting one of them instead? I'm sure they won't keep you back like I probably will."

"Oh." Zayn appears to not even have thought about that. Harry's flattered to say the least. "Well, I don't want to wake them."

"But you would have woken me?" He lifts an eyebrow challengingly.

"No, you're not sleeping."

"What if I was?"

"You aren't."

"But I could have been."

"But you aren't."

"I could have been."

"But you aren't."

"But I could have-"

"God, Harry, shut up, get your clothes on, and let's get going, yeah?" Zayn finally declares like he's thoroughly brassed off.

"I will if you admit that you just want to spend more time with me," Harry grins cheekily.

Zayn playfully rolls his eyes in response and folds his arms. "I'll admit that you're annoying."

"Rude." Harry reaches out to poke at him. "You should be nicer to the people you want to spend time with, Zayn."

"I'm nice to the others."

Harry's jaw goes slack, and he shakes his head, appearing betrayed. "Keep it up, and you'll be going to the store all by yourself." Not really. He wouldn't miss this for the world.

"Alright, alright. I'll be nice, now do you want a slap? I said get your clothes on."

An exasperated yet horribly indulgent smile tugs at the corner of his lips though, so Harry knows that he's not really annoyed and that's he's done his job. He eased the tension, so he goes to get his kit on even if he doesn't really want to. He means, it's Zayn's loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry if it’s terrible  
> Lemme know what you think x


	5. I want you here with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets an awakening. The boys sing a very familiar song.  
> (Part 1 of 2)

"Harry, I told you to close the door on your way out."

Shit, he's in trouble. He can tell because there Zayn is, standing a few feet away from him with his deep brown eyes unwaveringly staring straight back at him as he crosses his arms and fixes Harry an unimpressed look.

All he can do in response is shoot Zayn a bashful smile as he holds the culprit herself in his arms and hopes for mercy. "I did! She must know a way to get in."

Zayn condescendingly quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at that. "Yes, I'm sure she just reached for the doorknob, turned it, and let herself in," he drawls.

"That's not what I meant," Harry laughs slightly because Zayn's still giving him a flat look, but he can't bring himself to take him seriously when he's looking all soft and artistic. "Oh, come on. You're not seriously mad at me, are you?"

"No, I'm seriously mad at you. That's not a room I want her to be in."

Harry nods, pursing his lips out in consideration. "Alright," he says slowly, taking a step closer to Zayn. "I can understand that, but are you still mad if I do this?" He asks, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Zayn's jaw. It twitches slightly, and his stubble scrapes against Harry's lips, just the way he likes it.

But Zayn shrugs, unmoved, "Yeah, 'm still pretty upset," so Harry knows that he has to try harder.

He hums. "How about if I do this?" He angles his head just right and moves to Zayn's lips then, pressing down on them for a second, basking in their chapped glory for just long enough before pulling away to meet his eyes with a devilish smile.

"Maybe a little less now," Zayn mumbles nonchalantly, but Harry can feel him loosening up, so he goes for it, and he deepens the kiss, placing his hand on Zayn's cheek as he draws him in closer and slowly moves his lips against his. It's unrushed at first, the kiss, but soon he's licking his way into Zayn's mouth, and he's sure Zayn doesn't mean to, but he moans when Harry nips at his lower lip. He pulls at the hair at the nape of Harry's neck in retaliation and flips them so Harry's up against the wall, legs entwined, beating hearts aligned. "Okay, maybe you're getting there," Zayn tells him a bit breathlessly. His eyes are full blown and darker than before now, and Harry can't seem to recall what they were even talking about.

"Oh yeah?" He whispers against Zayn's intoxicating lips as he steals a few more kisses. "What about-"

Zayn seems to remember though because he backs away almost as soon as Harry presses his lips to his collarbone. "Wait, no. Harry! Be serious. I'm really upset," he says, whacking his arm but chuckling. "I've told you a million times, babe. I don't want her-"

"Do I have something on my face?"

Harry suddenly snaps back to reality. Shit. He blinks. They're still out to brunch. They're still out to brunch, and that was Zayn's _real_ voice just then, dragging him out of his laughable thoughts of owning a house together with a cat that keeps getting into Zayn's art studio. Man, he's so ridiculous sometimes he wants to hit himself. "I'm sorry, what?"

A small smirk is pulling at the corner of Zayn's pretty pink lips as he repeats, "You're staring. Do I have something on my face?"

"Oh." Harry clasps his hands together to keep from facepalming and/or sloshing himself. "No, sorry. I'm just- you're a really animated speaker, you know? It's hard not to give you my full attention, especially when you're talking about things like this, things that you love." Wait, he didn't mean to say that, or at least not in the way that he just said it. Jesus, Harry. Just outright tell him, why don't you?

"Oh," Zayn echoes a bit awkwardly. Great, he made him uncomfortable. "Cheers?" He asks rather than states, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "But it'd be sick, wouldn't it? 'Cause like maybe I'd have it be a graffiti room where I could like spray paint the walls, and nobody could tell me that I can't. I've always wanted to do that, but imagine if I went to do that at my house at home. My mum would be like 'no way, you're not spray painting on my walls. I don't think so,' and I can't do it at my flat because it's not mine, so when I get my own house, course I'm gonna wanna spray paint the wall, you know?"

Harry snorts before he can help it because Zayn's adorable, and he's not sure how one person be so endearing. "That's your solution?"

"Yeah," Zayn answers slowly, letting his arm fall from his neck before his face does. "You think it's stupid."

"No!" Okay, he said that way too quickly. He really needs to take a step back to re-evaluate himself or something. "No, I think it's great. I'd like to see it one day," Harry says more carefully, the image from before making its way back into his head with a few minor changes.

"Yeah?"

"Definitely." Harry nods, giving Zayn his most solemn look. "I really liked the piece you did for your final project in November."

Zayn's face contorts in confusion, and Harry guesses it's at the abrupt change of subject. "You did?"

"I did." Harry reaches up to scratch below his ear. "I know I didn't say much to you about it back then, but I thought it was brilliant."

He seems surprised, and Harry's not sure why because Olivia had told him that Zayn had gotten tons of praise for it and an excellent grade on his project. "You thought it was brilliant? Really? How so?"

"Well, it was different." Zayn raises his eyebrows at that, probably because he's heard that a lot, and that is honestly just about the most basic thing one can say about something like that, so Harry's quick to amend it. "I'm not- I'm not saying that as like a cliché, and I don't mean it in like different in a bad way either. _You_ did it. I don't think it could ever be bad because you seem to be good at everything, at least all the things that I've seen you do, or heard you do, but just like different in the way that it made me think and like feel something like no else's had. I mean, the others I saw were good, but yours was very dramatic and telling, and I liked the bold use of color. It made for a mood that was very- was very- thoughtful? Thinky? I don't know, like it made me think, you know? It was-"

"Thought-provoking? Piquant?" Zayn puts forward.

"Yeah!" Harry snaps, grinning at him shortly before focusing back on his drink. "The mood it created was very thought-provoking and piquant. I also liked that the brushwork and texture of it was smooth but a bit rough on the edges at the same time, yeah? The whole thing was, actually, if I'm being honest. Or well, that's what I personally got from it, and that made me think of you because you're also like smooth but rough around the edges. Again, not a bad thing. You're great, and it was all very you, and it was really, really nice, but my point is that I know that a graffiti room wouldn't really be like that in the same aspect because it's a different form of art, but I think..." He completely forgets what he thinks because he looks up then, only to find Zayn simpering as he gazes back at him, all smile lines and crinkly eyes, and Harry starts to wonder how he ever got so lucky to be on the receiving end of that smile. He's honestly never seen anything more prepossessing. "I'm rambling, and I should shut up," he finishes on a breath. God, how long was he speaking? He really needs that evaluation now.

Zayn breaks into a laugh, and well, he was wrong because _that_ is even more prepossessing. He shakes his head from where he's sitting across from Harry. "No, please, go on. Your interpretation is very," he appears to be searching for the right word now, " _different_ ," he finally concludes with a grin. "It's quite beguiling, and I like hearing your insight."

"Now you're just making fun of me." Harry rolls his eyes, glancing down at his hands where he's twisting one of his rings.

"Maybe a little," Zayn admits with a smaller smile.

"Right." Harry inclines his head. "I'm just going to go back to drinking my cold tea then."

"Thank you." Well that's a bit rude. Zayn wants him to shut up that badly? Wait, no. No, that's not it, because he feels it before he sees it. Zayn's cold hand at his arm, contrastingly giving his body heat in a way that no one else can while simultaneously keeping him in place. Harry looks up at him, at whatever it is in his eyes that he can't read. "Thank you, H, for what you said about my piece _and_ _me_. Although, I'm not sure that last bit was a compliment, 'm glad you apparently liked it so much. I didn't think it was my best, but all the same, everything said means a lot coming from you."

"Oh." Harry gulps because Zayn is making some serious eye contact. How does one breathe again? "Why is that?"

"Because you're special to me. You always have been," Zayn tells him, twinkling. He runs the pad of his thumb over Harry's arm and keeps it there for a second before pulling away completely, taking the scorching heat and piercing cold away in an instant when he does. Harry doesn't even have a chance to think about those words, _his_ words, before Zayn's heaving a sigh and reaching into his pockets, still wearing a smile. "We should get to the store now before we get in trouble with the others, especially Louis, and Liv will probably be wanting her things."

Harry's still trying not to gasp for breath, so he's not entirely sure how to respond, but, "Yeah, I guess you're right," he manages to get out despite his heart having embedded itself in his throat. "Shall we go then?"

-

"You know you're a real gentleman." He grins cheekily, taking Zayn's hand in his own. "I wasn't sure before, but now I know why Liv has kept you around for this long."

"Shut up." Zayn rolls his eyes playfully as he helps Harry out the car. "You and I both know you just like being treated like a princess."

"That I do." Harry dimples, shutting the door behind him. He's glad all his friends pay attention to that little known fact about him. "On a more serious note, I really did have a lovely time at brunch and while shopping, so thank you for inviting me."

"Pleasure was all mine, babe." Zayn shrugs, sliding his arm around Harry's waist like it's a second nature, even though he can walk with much less difficulty on his own now. "I missed our little dates."

Harry narrowly misses choking at those words but nearly trips instead in the process. Luckily, Zayn is there to catch him. He doesn't know whether to feel happy or put out by that since it seems like that's always the case nowadays. "Dates?" He asks. Dates? That wasn't a date. It was just brunch. Right? It had to be, and what is he even talking about? They never went on any dates.

"No, not like _date_ dates, because we never dated, _obviously_ ," obviously, "but just like study dates and breakfast and dinner. We used to do stuff like that quite a lot," Zayn says as he assists Harry with getting up the stairs.

Harry frowns. It was a simpler time then. "We did, didn't we?"

"We did. I hope we can start doing things like that again more often, and when Liv gets here, maybe the three of us can go out like you and I did today," Zayn suggests. They're standing in front of the door now, and he's looking at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to open the door, but besides that, there's something open in his expression. Unfortunately, Harry can't figure out what exactly he's trying to communicate.

Either way, "Liv, right." Zayn still has a girlfriend, one whom they both love deeply. Harry feels something pinch at his heart at the very thought, but it's okay because he needed that reminder. Things were starting to feel a little too- not romantic. Heavens, no. Just intimate, maybe, and familiar, but he can't think about that right now. He shouldn't think about it ever, actually, even if Zayn is all he wants, so much it's hurting. He forces a smile before facing the door, fetching his keys out to open it.

_He's Olivia’s, Harry. **Olivia**._

"Where the hell were you two?" Louis demands almost as soon as they're through the doorframe. He's standing directly in front of them with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows knit.

"The store?" Harry answers unsurely.

"Didn't you read our note?" Zayn asks.

"Note?" Louis falters slightly.

"We left a note on the fridge," Harry tells him while Zayn pulls away from him to go sit on the arm of the sofa, and he tries not to pout.

Liam scoffs, standing from his spot on the couch next to Niall to walk over to the kitchen. "You didn't leave a- oh yeah, they did. Well I'll be." He presses his lips together and shakes his head as he plucks it off the refrigerator.

"Big deal," Louis rags, crossing his arms. "So you left a note. Still doesn't explain how could you just up and leave like that without even telling us, _in_ _person_. You know we don't like to read."

"He's right. We don't," Niall pipes up, not taking his eyes off the telly. "You lads should have told us."

"You're actually agreeing with him?" Harry arches his eyebrows in incredulity. "You as well Liam?"

"Well, we were worried about you. What if something happened?"

"More importantly, what if I wanted you to pick up some actual food from town for me so that I could eat that instead of this microwave crap that Louis gave me?" Niall enquires hotly before adding, "No offense."

"None taken, mate."

"We brought lunch?" Zayn offers, reaching out to ruffle Niall's hair affectionately as if that'll get them off the hook so easily. Can't he tell they're-

"All is forgiven."

Oh. He guesses it will.

Zayn chuckles and gestures with his head to outside. "Liam? Help me with the bags?"

Liam does, and soon they all have lunch, but not before Louis gives Harry a _’we'll_ _talk_ _about_ _this_ _later’_ look.

They don't though because Harry keeps them all occupied for the remainder of the day, having them help him out in the kitchen as he bakes biscuits for Liv before he tells them that they should tidy the place up a bit before she arrives because the cabin's already gotten messy since the last time he cleaned it, what with five boys living here and all. He doesn't drop a vase on his foot this time, but he does nearly break a few dishes as he does them. Fortunately, Zayn's there to catch them, just like he's always bloody catching Harry.

After dinner, he's exhausted, so he retreats to his room to read before bed. Niall joins him a short time after for a cuddle, then Liam does as well, followed by Zayn and Louis who waltz in smelling like smoke.

Zayn settles in next to Harry on the bed because he's working on a sketch of his anatomical heart tattoo. Louis finds a place on Liam's chest and teases him that he smells after their hard day's work, and Niall laughs, and it's great because it's like that for the rest of the night. Just Harry and his boys, together in his bed.

Niall's the first to fall asleep, and Harry's fighting against joining him when Louis yawns loudly and rolls out from under the duvet. He stretches then reaches down to pat at Liam's thigh. "C'mon, take me to bed."

"Do I get a please?" Liam sleepily smiles up at him.

"I think you know me better than that, Payno." Louis rolls his eyes but leans down to peck his lips anyway.

Harry sees Liam give Louis the special smile reserved for only him before he takes his hand and stands as well. He can't help but think how much he wants someone to look at him like that. "You coming, Zayn?" Liam asks, glancing back at him.

Harry turns to look at him too. Zayn's put away his sketchbook for now, and he's just sprawled on a pillow, his lips stretched in a lazy smile. He meets Harry's eyes, and Harry doesn't know if he can tell, but he wants desperately for Zayn to say no because he wants Zayn here with him, even if it's just for a little longer.

"No, I'm good. Think I'll chill for a while," Zayn eventually replies, not breaking eye contact.

Harry has to though because it's a little too much, and Louis's staring at them again. "Alright, but don't do anything I wouldn't do... Or anything I _would_ do... Just don't do anything!" He finally decides. "Goodnight."

"Night, Lou. I love you," Zayn chaffs with a grin.

"Oh, shut it, you big softie."

"I love you too," Harry says. "But not as much as I love Liam, or Niall, or Zayn, so keep that in mind."

His roommate scoffs lightly. "Right, let's pretend that that's true. I'll see you losers in the morning. Don't go to bed too late." He emits another yawn and tugs on his boyfriend's arm. "C'mon, babe. Take me now."

"Please go to your room before you do," Zayn drones sarcastically, and Louis gives him the finger as Liam drags him off to the stairs. Now, they're alone. (Or well, as alone as they can be with a dozing Nialler next to them.)

They peer over at each other, beaming, and Zayn motions with his head for Harry to come closer. When he does, Zayn brings a hand up to his hair as the younger rests his head on his shoulder. "Don't you want to go to bed?" Harry asks, even though he doesn't want him to at all.

"Do you want me to?"

"No," he replies honestly. It's good to be honest. "I like it when you do that. 's nice."

Zayn hums, proceeds with carding his fingers through Harry's hair. "Well, I love your curly locks."

_And I love you._

“I like yours too," he responds instead, and neither of them say much after that. They mostly just sit there in comfortable silence. Harry couldn't tell you when he fell asleep.

-

He wakes to music.

Or more specifically, to three voices singing and a guitar playing. You all know the song, the loud, tuneless number that has Harry groaning and fighting against the urge to throw something in the direction in which the noise is coming from. He's dangerously close to doing so, because it's too early for this, but he decides against it because that wouldn't be treating people with kindness.

Still, _”It's time to get up in the morning."_

_"In the morning."_

_"Morning!"_ is not what he wants to hear as soon as he's awake.

He tries to tune them out as the song goes on for a while longer because it's becoming increasingly clear that they didn't even have the decency to practice before putting on this performance. That much is made obvious when he hears flat strokes coming from the guitar, and jumbled, incoherent lyrics piercing through the air, but if he thought that was bad, he wasn't prepared for all the ruckus that came next.

Suddenly, he can feel the other boys jumping around him in bed as they basically yell gibberish lyrics to the horribly off-key beat of their impromptu alarm of a song. _”It's_ _time_ _to_ _get_ _up,”_ they keep singing, as they shake him and yank at his arms, but he really doesn't want to.

Unfortunately, the wankers aren't giving up. He aims to throw a punch at one of them as they finally end the song off, and he springs up in bed after in an effort to placate them. "Time to get up!" He exclaims, receiving the cheers he was looking for. The crowd leaves the room then, and he falls back onto his pillow directly after.

_Finally, some peace and- Zayn's still here._

Harry hadn't realized, but he's woken up next to his brown-eyed boy again. It's been a while since they've shared a bed. He guesses it's not that big of deal since they recently slept on the couch together, and they are lying a few feet apart from each other right now, but it's still nice. Nice to know that Zayn didn't leave him last night even after he fell asleep. Nice to know that Zayn stayed.

Harry smiles fondly, and before he even realizes that he's doing it, he reaches over to move a few strands of hair out of Zayn's closed eyes. Sometimes he really does believe that Zayn's his Hercules, because even sleeping, he looks like the son of gods forced to live among mere mortals.

He edges closer to press a soft kiss to his temple prior to climbing out of bed before the others return, when without warning, the hair on the back of his neck stands up, and Harry's suddenly feeling eyes on him and a presence in the room. His head whips to the door where he finds a pair staring back at him along with a quizzical quirk of the eyebrow. He's wondering why exactly when he realizes that he's in a very compromising position hovering over Zayn in bed and all, and that that's his girlfriend standing there.

"Should I feel threatened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Don’t be shy :)


	6. like how I pictured it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s New Yearsss!  
> (Part 2 of 2)

"You do know that you can blink, don't you?"

At that, Harry slowly does, and he's not entirely sure if that was the girl sitting beside him at the bar just then or just the voice in his head trying to talk some sense into him, but either way, it works.

He looks over, and the brunette sheepishly smiles at him, however, so he figures that it was her. She's very pretty and appears to be around his age.

"Excuse me?"

"Crap. I can't believe I just said that out loud." She covers her mouth and laughs slightly out of embarrassment. Harry can tell she's already had a few drinks. "It's just that, and I don't mean to be intrusive, but I've been sat here observing you for a while now, and I kept thinking, _'I know he's pretty, but you don't have to stare, bro,'_ you know?" Upon seeing his befuddled look, the girl subtly gestures over to where Zayn and Olivia are sitting at a booth not too far away.

 _Oh_. He scoffs and straightens in his seat, scrunching his face up. "What? That's ridiculous. I'm not-" He pauses. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The stranger smirks at his words, lifting her glass to her lips to take a swig of her drink. "Wouldn't you know if you knew me?"

"I suppose I would," he allows. "... Harry." He extends his hand because he's polite and has no one else to talk to at the moment.

"Alexis," she beams, shaking it. "I should have lead with that, shouldn't I?"

"I'm not sure the start of our conversation would have been as memorable if you did," he grins, and she follows suit. It's nice to make friends. "So what brings you here, Alexis? You all by yourself?"

She nods. "Well, currently I am, but I came here tonight with my roommates. They've ditched me to go off with their dates though, but I guess that's what I get for agreeing to be the fifth wheel. Shucks to be me, huh?"

Harry chuckles. "That's too bad. I seem to have found myself in a similar situation, actually, so I guess we're in the same boat." It's why he's found himself sitting at the bar alone. Nothing like being by yourself on New Years Eve, right? He wants to laugh at how pathetic he must seem as he sips at his drink and his eyes scan the crowd for his friends.

He easily spots Louis and Liam first. They're dancing enthusiastically in the middle of it, with hands on hips and neck to lips. Next, his eyes land on Niall, who's unsurprisingly snacking on something and chatting up a few girls nearby, and ultimately, they come to a stop on Zayn, whose arm is wrapped around Olivia as she laces their fingers together and hits his chest with a giggle for something he says.

Zayn laughs and presses his lips to her forehead in apology, so Harry blows a breath out and finally turns away. His stupid eyes keep going back to them for some reason. They're traitors, really.

"That his girlfriend then?"

"Hmm?" He asks distractedly when he hears that, glancing over at Alexis whom he sort of forgot was there.

"The hot bird talking to your dark and handsome Greek god of a friend over there." She nods in their direction. "You said we're in the same boat, so I'm assuming they're together? I know it's none of my business, but I'm a sucker for things like this, and I think I'm invested at this point. How could I not be with how I've seen the way he keeps glancing over here and making eyes at you? And you're doing the same thing, so why aren't you with him right now?"

_”Am I interrupting something?" Olivia asks unsurely from where she's standing in the doorway of Harry's room. "Because right now, it looks like my plan worked out way better than I imagined it would."_

_His eyes widen, and he shoots away from Zayn as quickly he knows how, shaking his head vigorously. "We weren't- I wasn't- um- you're here!"_

_Harry's best friend arches an enquiring eyebrow once more. "Yes, I am, and it appears I've arrived just in time."_

_He gulps. "We weren't- it's- it's not what it looks like."_

_"Really?" She crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side. "Because it looks like you and Zayn are reconnecting and bonding like old times." She breaks into a smile. "Isn't that what's happening?"_

_He deflates and relief washes over him like a cold shower. Thank God she's not jumping to conclusions. "Oh, then- then yeah, it's exactly what it looks like because that is what's happening."_

_"Hazza! That's so great," Olivia squeals and runs over, attacking him with a tight hug. He effortlessly relaxes into it because he hadn't thought about it much, but he did really miss her. "My two favorite guys are friends again!"_

_His heart thumps painfully, but he smiles despite it. "Right, friends," he murmurs._

Harry shakes his head. "He doesn't keep watching over here, and he wouldn't 'make eyes at me,'" he air quotes dismissively.

"I must be imagining things then," Alexis concedes with another easy smile, and he decides that he likes her then because she's chosen not to pry.

He meets her eyes before staring back down at his drink. "Yeah, we're just mates," he tells her, sliding the glass across the bar in between his hands. "If he is looking over here, it's probably just to check up on me."

"He sounds like a good friend."

"He is," Harry states confidently, and she doesn't seem to have a reply for that, so he hesitates for a second before continuing, turning to face her completely. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

He pauses again before simply choosing to come out with it. "Is it obvious?"

She frowns a bit in confusion. "What is?"

He shakes his head again. He's not buying it. "I'm sure you know what I mean. You said you've been observing us for some time now."

She nods slowly, seeming to understand. "Is it obvious that there's something there between the two of you, you mean?"

He purses his lips. "Well, I don't know about-"

"It is," she interrupts gently. "Could be seen from a mile away, honestly, and I don't even know you, so the real question is, why are you here with me, a complete stranger, when you want to be wherever he is?"

_”I'm so glad you're finally here, Liv." He tries for his best smile as he pulls away from her. "But I should probably get going. Give you two your space and all."_

_Olivia pouts. "Oh, you don't have to. I was going to leave Zaynie here to sleep and catch up with the rest of you lads for the time being."_

_"No, no," Harry says, already making his way out of bed. "You should stay here. I'm sure Zayn eagerly wants to see you and is going to love the surprise. Besides, I think I'll head out in a bit."_

_"Head out? Where are you going?"_

_"Just going to hop into the shower, I think, and see what happens from there," he shrugs, walking backwards towards the door. "You know me. I'm super spontaneo- oof." He backs up into the dresser, making the contents atop it rattle._

_"Babe, are you okay?" Olivia questions in concern. "You're being weirder than usual."_

_"I'm fine-"_ Totally not falling for your boyfriend more and more each day. Psh, why would you say that? _”I'm just..."_

_"Yeah?" She asks, looking up at him with big, Bambi eyes, and he really can't go up against those, so he sighs defeatedly, walking back over to plant a kiss on her head._

_"I'm really excited you're here, darling, and I'll be back soon to spend some much needed time with you, alright? In the mean time, you should spend some with him. You haven't seen each other in so long, and I'm certain you both missed each other heaps, so I'm going to get out of your hair for a bit. I don't want to be in the way anymore."_

I shouldn't have been in the first place.

"She _is_ his girlfriend," he discloses, slumping in his seat.

"I see."

He nods, still not having the courage to look at her. He doesn't even know why he's telling her all this. "She's also my best friend whom I've known my entire life."

"Oh," Alexis breathes. "That's..."

"Yeah," Harry exhales. Not much else to say, is there? He waves the bartender over and turns to her sombrely. "Wanna do shots?"

She snorts and smiles sympathetically, and Harry kind of hates it, but he guesses it's a given with how pitiful she must think he is. "As great as that sounds, I'm not sure that's the best solution. How about we dance instead? I mean, I'm nowhere near as beautiful as he is, but I don't think that anyone is, and you seem like you could really use it."

"So no shots?" He gives her a petulant look. He's not much of a drinker, but he thinks tonight calls for it.

"No shots," she speaks firmly.

"Can I at least get another drink?"

She heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes. "Fine, make it two, one for each of us, then will you?"

"You know what, I'd absolutely love to." He dimples triumphantly. Maybe the night won't be so bad after all.

-

"Oh my gosh, Harry, you should tell him!" Alexis shouts over the blaring bass of the beat. "It's so clear that he feels something for you too, and all's fair in love and war!" She cries dramatically.

No, what's really clear is the fact that she's had one too many. They've been dancing together for a while now, and he's honestly feeling a thousand times better. He's not thinking about Zayn at all, no matter how many times she brings him up. He looks down at her, amused. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is so!" She jiggles his arm insistently. "Come on, he's been glaring daggers at me since I started talking to you! Could you be any more oblivious?"

Harry pulls a face, shaking his head. "He just naturally always looks broody, Alexis. You're reading way too much into it." He laughs at her, and her jaw drops in ostentatious offense.

She pokes at his torso. "I'll have you know that I am an _expert_ when it comes to things like this, and I am never wrong. 's why I'm single and able to gift you with my presence while I mingle. I'm too aware." She taps the side of her head as she squints her eyes.

"Well, thank you for granting me the pleasure of your company, but are you sure someone as beautiful as yourself isn't seeing anyone?" He takes her hand and spins her before pulling her closer to his chest.

She twinkles up at him. "Only you, my lovely, only you, however, flattery will get you nowhere, no matter how charming you are, so you should quit while you're ahead. Keep your eyes on the model."

He laughs again, and his hands move to her hips as hers wrap around his neck. "Now why would I do that when he's the one that's actually taken?"

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and she stands on the tips of her toes as she reaches up to his ear to whisper it. "Because he's your something great."

_“Where'd you go this morning?" Zayn interrogates as soon as he yanks the door open for him._

_Harry's caught a bit off guard. He thought one of the others would be the one greeting him and that Olivia would be making the most of her time alone with her boyfriend. "Uh, just went out for a little walk." He shrugs, trying to step into the cabin._

_Zayn stands in his way. "In this weather, and with your bad foot?" He demands, furrowing his eyebrows. "What were you even- oh, just get in here."_

_Harry resists the urge to produce an eye roll. "'m fine, Zayn," he mumbles, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them._

_"No, you're an idiot," Zayn corrects, wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist and pulling him through the doorframe. "Come on." He begins dragging him into the kitchen._

_"What are you doing?"_

_He only gives Harry a flat look, but "I'm making hot chocolate," he announces loudly for all to hear without breaking eye contact. "Anyone want any?" Their friends all do, so Zayn instantly gets to work._

_"Need some help, babe?" Olivia calls from where she's lounging on the veranda with the others._

_"Thanks, but 'm good," Zayn declares, not looking away from where he's grabbing everything that he needs to make their drinks. He lays it all out on the counter in front of Harry, who’s awkwardly found himself a seat on one of the breakfast stools, and lowers his voice so that only he can hear him. “Do_ you _want any?”_

_He nods without a word in response, and that causes Zayn to sigh. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"_

_Harry wishes that he wasn't so easy to read sometimes, by Zayn at least. "What do you mean?"_

_Zayn's face contorts with a sardonic expression. "You rushed out of your warm bed this morning to go on a 'walk' in this freezing fucking cold on a foot that's not completely healed yet, so either you're crazy, or something's bothering you."_

_He's sure it's a mixture of both. "It's nothing, really," he lies though. "I just have a lot on my mind lately." I have you a lot on my mind lately, even more so than usual. "I wouldn't wanna bore you with the details." I could never bore you with the details._

_Zayn sighs again and stops what he's doing. He glances up at Harry earnestly. "You wouldn't, Harreh. You couldn't," he assures him, resting his hand on Harry's, and that really only makes things worse._

_-_

Alexis receives a text message from her roommates a few minutes to midnight.

Apparently, they'd planned from earlier to leave the pub early to catch the countdown and fireworks on the lake, and she'd completely forgotten about it, but now they want her to meet them outside, so sadly, she has to abandon Harry.

He offers to walk her to the exit, and when he passes by the booth he and his friends occupied earlier and discovers that Zayn and Olivia are gone, he barely registers the twinge he feels at his heart when he thinks about what they could have disappeared to do.

"You know, despite what terrible friends I have and how much I was literally dreading this night, I had a lovely time because of you, so thank you, Mr Harry Styles," Alexis grins at him.

He brings her into a hug. He doesn't want her to leave just yet. "I was wary of tonight also, and you made it all the better as well, so I should be thanking you."

She pulls away from his embrace, but they don't let go of each other just yet. She looks up at him and rolls her eyes. "No, I believe what you should be doing is talking to Zayn, but I'm not going to tell you how to live your life." She holds a hand up in surrender just as a car honks for her from the street. Two girls poke their heads out of its lowered windows.

"Lexi! Are you coming or what?" One of them calls for her.

"Yeah, just get his number, and let's go!" The other shouts excitedly. "Do you want to see him or the fireworks?"

"Maya!" The first one scolds her. "You know, you could bring him with us if you want, Lex! We have room for one more!"

"Yeah, maybe you should! He's fit!" Maya remarks. "What? He is!"

Alexis laughs and runs a hand through her hair, swiping it out of her eyes as she finally steps away from him. "And on that embarrassing note, I really must be going now."

"Do you have to?"

"I'm afraid I do, my lovely. I had a fantastic time, and I hope to see you again, okay?" She reaches up to kiss his cheek. "Good luck, and Happy New Year, Harry. Hopefully, that isn't the only kiss that you get tonight."

He's afraid that with her gone now, it definitely will be. Not that- not that he was thinking of her in that way. He thinks she'd be an excellent friend to him, but that's all. He'd just hoped that he wouldn't be alone for the countdown.

He sighs and turns to head back into the club but stops short when he sees a figure standing in the alleyway next to it. He's leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips, looking so stupidly pretty and dark and mysterious. Harry doesn't like it. Not in the slightest.

"Zayn?"

He whips his head in Harry's direction. Shadows are cast on his face as he does so due to the illumination from the street lights and pub sign, and something unrecognizable ignites in his eyes. "Oh, it's you."

Yes, that's always the way Harry prefers to be greeted. "That's me. What are you doing out here? Where's Liv?"

Zayn releases a breath of smoke away from Harry's face then stubs out his cigarette against the wall. "Still dancing with the other lads, I think." It's almost inaudible the way he says it. Harry can tell there's something wrong.

"Why aren't you with her?" He shrugs in response but tugs on his ear. Harry's learned that's a sign of his discomfort, so he takes a step closer to him, wanting to reach out, but he stops himself. "You alright?" He merely asks instead.

"Yeah, I'm good." Zayn tries for a smile. Harry sees right through it. “How are you?”

Harry slightly frowns at the fact that it seems like he’s trying to deflect. "I’m fine. Are you- are you sure though?"

Zayn releases a sigh and pulls harder, his eyebrows creasing together in the way that always makes Harry want to smooth them out. "Yeah, I just... I dunno. It can be hard for me sometimes, you know?"

"What can?"

"Well, it's a bit silly, really." Zayn shrugs.

Harry gives him half a smile. "I live with Louis. I don't mind silly."

Zayn seems to slightly relax at that. "I don't know, not sure if you noticed but I guess just like being around a large group of people for an extended period of time. It can be a lot for me, and I start to feel a bit uneasy after a while..." he explains quietly. "I mean, it's okay though. I just needed a break, is all."

Harry feels his stomach plummet. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I mean, of course I'd seen like some of the signs, but I wasn't sure exactly." He feels like shit. Zayn was mentally going through all that while he was having the time of his life. He should have been there for him.

"Yeah," Zayn only exhales.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry asks. He wants desperately to bring Zayn in for a hug and not let him go until he's ready to face the world again, but he stays where he is.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks, Harry." He looks up through his lashes, and his smile comes easier this time, even if it still doesn't reach his eyes.

"Are you sure? Because I don't mind," Harry's quick to ensure him. "Like, I'm here for you." He hopes that Zayn knows that, especially when he's feeling like this.

Zayn nods and slowly extends his hand, taking Harry's in his own. He stares down at where they're connected as he caresses it with his thumb, and Harry tries to get his heartbeat to calm down. "I know, and that's more than enough. Olivia, like, she gets it. She understands that I sometimes get in my own head and just need some time alone to sort things through, but it's nice to have company too. You could be inside having fun, but you're here with me, so thank you," he whispers, giving Harry's hand a squeeze before letting go.

Harry swallows. "It's- it's nothing, really. I'd do anything to help you feel better." And it's the truth. He'd do anything for Zayn.

"Yeah?" Zayn mumbles, meeting his eyes now. "Anything?"

"Course," Harry affirms. "Just say the word."

"Well,” he straightens, “you can stop acting weird again. I think that would make me feel much better."

So maybe Harry choked a little because he wasn't expecting that. "What?"

Zayn heaves a sigh. "Harry, you know that you've started doing it again. You're distancing yourself from me, have been since Liv got here."

He takes a step back, tries for nonchalant. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not-"

"You are," Zayn cuts in, inching a step closer, "and I know that we had that whole talk the other day, but it still feels like some things have been left unsaid."

 _More like a lot of things._ ”I'm not sure what you mean," Harry fibs.

"Harry, come on. Be serious. Do you not like Liv and I together or something?" _I_ _guess_ _you_ _could_ _say_ _that_. "Do you not think we make a good couple? Harry, if you think that I'm doing something wrong, you can tell me."

He doesn’t, is the thing, because that would be easier wouldn’t it? It’d be so much easier if he thought that Zayn and Olivia didn’t make a near-perfect couple, but he does, and that’s what hurts him even more, because he knows deep in his heart that Zayn isn’t doing a thing wrong by being in love with someone as great as her instead of him.

He feels sick all over again, and his heart is pulsating immensely, so he releases a breath and shakes his head in an attempt to calm down. "You're not doing anything wrong, Zayn," he manages to get out.

"Then why?" He demands wearily. "Why do you keep doing this? I don't get it."

"Me either, okay?" Harry tells him a little loudly. Zayn falters, so he goes on, a bit more softly. "'m just- I’m just thoroughly selfish, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

Harry shakes his head again and focuses on his rings to make saying this easier. "It was like old times before Liv arrived, and now it feels just like it did back then when you two first started dating." He pauses before continuing, sounding so horribly vulnerable that he doesn't know how his feelings aren't completely perceptible to someone as brilliant as Zayn yet. "Feels like I've lost you all over again."

"H," Zayn breathes tiredly, taking both his hands this time. Harry can do nothing but look up at him then, instantly getting lured in by his favorite pair of eyes. "I'm still here."

_You are, but I want you here like how I pictured it. I want you here as mine._

Harry shakily sighs. "I know. Told you, I'm just very dramatic," he murmurs.

"Is that it?"

No. Well, maybe, because he can be very dramatic at times, but "Yes, that's it," he lies.

"You're sure?" Zayn asks.

Harry nods. "What else could it be?"

Zayn shrugs. "You tell me."

Harry wishes that he could, but "There's nothing to tell, Z," he finally answers.

Zayn nods slowly and releases his hands, having them fall limp to Harry's side. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes but shakes his head and stuffs them back into his pocket, seeming to think better of it. "So who was your friend?" He changes the subject, thankfully.

"My friend?"

Zayn arches an eyebrow. "The one you were with all night?"

"Oh, you mean Alexis," Harry deduces. "She's not really a friend, just someone I met."

Now both his eyebrows quirk. "You just met her tonight? You two seemed pretty close for complete strangers."

So he _was_ watching them. Harry doesn't know how to feel about that. "Yeah, well, she was really cool and a lot of fun. Really easy to be around, you know?"

"I see."

"She's a great listener and a great talker too," he goes on. "Even tried to give me some advice. I'm sure it was shit, but either way, I'm sad that she had to leave."

"How unfortunate," Zayn seems to drawl, crossing his arms and once again leaning against the wall. "You get her number?"

"No," Harry tells him. "We agreed that if our paths are meant to cross again, they will."

"Inspiring." Zayn reaches up to scratch at his stubble. "So you didn't ask her out?"

He shakes his head. "No, I think we both only saw each other as friends. Why?"

"Just making conversation." Zayn shrugs. "When's the last time you went on a date, Haz?"

"A date?" He echoes.

Zayn smirks. "You do remember what a date is, don't you? Or has it really been that long?"

"Fuck off." Harry rolls his eyes lightheartedly. "What does it matter?"

"'m just curious." Zayn shrugs again. "Back when we first met, you seemed to have all the girls. What changed?"

"I don't know," he grumbles, folding his arms as well, suddenly feeling defensive. Of course, he does know, but there’s no way that he could tell him. "Why are you asking so many questions?"

Zayn’s face darkens a tad at his tone. "Maybe I'm just interested in what's going on in my mate's life. Can't I be?" He challenges.

"You never seemed to care before," Harry points out because he's utterly stubborn and a prick.

"That's because you didn't want me to," Zayn scoffs. " _You_ pushed _me_ away, remember?"

"And I told you why," Harry says, trying to keep his voice even. He doesn't want to have this conversation again.

"Doesn't mean it was any easier dealing with," Zayn denounces, his brown eyes now alight with an untamable fire.

"And you think it was easy for me?" Harry demands. He wants to scream at him and tell him how much it hurt, _still_ hurts, how much he missed him, how hard it was seeing Zayn be happy with someone else when Harry selfishly wanted him to be happy with him instead. He wants to tell him that it was anything but easy.

"I don't know, you're doing it again, aren't you?" Zayn bellows like he can't help it, and Harry's heart shatters instantly at his harsh yet vulnerable tone.

No. He didn't- he doesn't- He takes a tentative step closer. "Zayn,” he tries but snaps his mouth close, not knowing how to repair the damage done. “Zayn, look at me. Zayn, please trust me when I say that I don't mean to. I don't want to."

Zayn sighs and reaches for his wrist, tugging him closer. "Then don't." Their eyes meet, and it’s too much for him- his gaze, his touch, his _plea_.

Harry forcibly shakes his head and pulls away. He moves back and takes his hand with him. He can't do this. If this keeps up, he might do something he'll regret. "It's not as easy as you make it sound." No matter how much he wishes it were. No matter how much he wishes he could pull Zayn closer and kiss him and tell him that he's better off here with Harry tonight. He can't, and it’s fucking clawing at everything inside him.

Zayn closes in on himself, and in turn, shuts Harry out too. He can see it. He can feel it, feel a barrier rise up in the space between them again. "And why is that?" He mumbles hoarsely.

 _Because you're hers._ ”Because some things just aren't, Zayn,” he says, running a hand down his face. “I should- no, _we_ should both probably be getting inside now. It's almost midnight, and Liv must be wondering where you are."

"What about you?" He asks softly.

Harry's brow furrows. "I guess she's probably wondering about me too."

"Not what I meant." Zayn pulls himself off the wall. "Now that your friend is gone, who are you going to be with when the new year comes? Who's going to be the lucky person, H?" His voice sounds numb. Harry hates that it’s all his fault.

Still, he huffs. "Obviously there's no one, but I'm okay. Trust me. You should head on inside, Zayn. I don't like need-" He's interrupted by a soft kiss being pressed to the corner of his mouth. Harry freezes as gentle chapped lips narrowly come in contact with his for just a second before they leave.

He reaches up to touch where his face is tingling. Oh, so he's dreaming.

"I'm sure you don't, but it's always nice anyway." Zayn looks up into Harry’s eyes and lightly smiles, but it’s still not reaching his eyes. "Look, I know that things aren't the best between us right now, for whatever reason that you’re not quite ready to share with me yet, but here's to a new year, Harry, and here's to hoping you won't stay away this time. Goodnight."

Then he disappears into thin air, and Harry's apparently forgotten how to do everything, including moving any of his muscles, so he stays motionless there. Either way, after that, he's not sure that he could stay away from Zayn even if he wanted to.

”Goodnight, Z,” he whispers to the wind, a hand on his thrumming heart. The year's apparently already off to a fantastic start.


	7. you’re giving me a heart attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something exciting is in the works. Harry gets a heart attack.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry halts just outside his lecture hall. Olivia's standing a few feet away from him with a too-large smile on her face. He's suspicious to say the least.

"Can't I just want to see my best friend?" She beams up at him sweetly as he cautiously approaches her.

"You just saw me yesterday," he reminds her. "What do you want?"

"Rude." She jabs a finger into his side and pretends to be offended. "Now, come on. Walk with me." She links their arms and begins dragging him down the hall.

"Alright..." he mumbles, still a tad sceptical. She's being weird. She never comes to meet him at his classes.

"So, how are you, Haz?" Olivia asks him. "How's your first day back been so far?"

And now she's asking him about his day? Now he knows something's up. As sweet as she normally is, Liv's like Louis in that she shows her affection for him by always taking the piss out of him. "You're asking me about my day?" He questions slowly.

She nods. "I want to hear all about it."

He feels like he's stepped into an alternate universe. "Oh," he pleasantly lets out, nonetheless. "Well, it's been pretty good, actually. I feel like this semester's going to be a great one because-"

"Brilliant!" She exclaims, squeezing his arm with a grin. "Are you doing anything right now?"

Okay, there she is. "Besides getting annoyed by you," he drawls on a roll of his eyes, "no, why?"

" _Well_ ," she starts, drawing the word out, "you do remember whose birthday is coming up, don't you?"

"David Bowie?"

"What? No." Her eyebrows pinch together, and she looks at him like she thinks he's an absolute twit, which she probably does. "I mean, yeah, sure, but _Zayn's_ birthday is this weekend. I'm sure you knew that."

He did know that, but he'd like to pretend he forgot. "Oh, right," he replies insouciantly.

"Yeah, so I want to surprise him," she informs Harry. "But I need your help."

He's not sure he likes the sound of that. He knows that the bleeding organ he has for a heart won't let him stay away this time around (not that he wants to), but he's not sure he can handle anything Zayn-related just yet. He's just gotten his palpitating heart rate back to normal, courtesy of the week at the cabin, so he's a bit terrified to ask, "With what, exactly?"

"I'll tell you all the details later, but let's start with the fact that I can't meet Zaynie right now at the art lab like you know that I do at this time whenever he books it, so you're going to have to go for me."

She's kidding, right?

-

She was not kidding.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, shakes it out, and takes a deep breath as he stands outside the door of the art lab. Zayn can be seen with his back turned, and Harry hates himself, because he never gets nervous, but right now, he can practically taste his heart at the back of his throat again at the simple thought of going in there to be with Zayn alone.

Speaking of which, he should probably get to it. But he can't seem to bring himself to, because should he knock? Should he just let himself in? He doesn't know the rules. To his good fortune (or lack, thereof), he doesn't have to think about that much longer, because suddenly, Zayn is spinning around to the door, and Harry has to duck before he can catch him staring at him creepily. Nice.

"Aren't you gonna greet me with a kiss, babe?" He hears only a few seconds later, succeeding the sound of the door opening, and oh God, could this be going any worse? He's more than certain that Zayn's just said that because he was expecting his girlfriend there and not Harry, but he still chokes out a "What?" as he looks up at him because he's been even more skittish around Zayn since New Years.

"Harreh?" Zayn's brow furrows when his eyes land on him. "What are you doing here... on the floor?"

 _So it really could be going worse_. "Hello to you too," Harry manages to greet nonchalantly, briskly hopping back onto his feet. He nearly falls back while doing so, but Zayn, unsurprisingly, reaches out to steady him.

"Sorry, 'm just a bit surprised to see you, is all," he smiles, giving Harry's waist a squeeze before letting go. He motions with his head for them to step inside and closes the door behind them. "What's up?"

 _The door is closed. He closed the door_. "I brought you this and an apology from Liv for not being able to make it today." Harry presents him with his usual coffee order from the cafe like Olivia always does. He'd went out of his way to quickly swing by there to get it for him after she told him he had to fill in for her today, even though she'd said he didn't need to.

"Cheers." Zayn smiles wide, taking it gratefully and moving over to sit on a stool placed in front of a canvas. He sips at his drink and releases a moaning sound that won't keep Harry up at night at all as he cradles it in his hands. "Been a while," he explains sheepishly when he sees Harry watching him.

Harry nods slowly and walks over to him, throwing his bag to the ground. "Yeah, I totally get it." He gulps, willing the sound out of his mind. "So, uh... what are you working on?" He gestures in front of him.

Zayn snorts. "You're looking at a blank canvas, Harry."

"Right," Harry tells him. "I knew that, but come on. It's so much more than that, isn't it?"

Zayn gazes at him over the rim of the cup, appearing amused. "Is it now?"

"It is! It's- It's like endless possibilities. It's anything you want it to be. It's- it's-" he struggles to find the right word. "It's a third motivational thing!" Harry snaps and points at him. "Can't get any better than that."

Zayn breaks into a laugh, and Harry's heart jumps. He wants to make him laugh like that for as long as he can. "It's a blank canvas, babe, but I appreciate the attitude," he beams at him.

Harry thinks he sees something twinkle in his eyes too, so he hurriedly turns away before he can do something stupid like confess his undying love for him or tell Zayn that he thinks he's the one or sumnat. "Do you, uh, know what you're going to put on it yet?"

"I haven't got a clue," he answers honestly, offering Harry some of his coffee. "I'm supposed to turn something in by the end of the week, but I'm not sure what that is yet. Bit my fault, really. I had all break to do it."

"And you don't have any ideas?" Harry asks after he swallows a mouthful. Not what he's used to, but it's alright.

Zayn shakes his head. "Not really, no."

"Well maybe I can help you," he suggests before he can think too much about what he's saying. "I've been known to inspire people, you know?"

His brown eyed boy arches an eyebrow at that before stealing his drink back. "Is that so?"

"It is," Harry repeats, nodding seriously. "It's almost one hundred percent guaranteed, actually." It's honestly not. Why is he saying any of this?

"Alright, Styles," Zayn smirks. "I'll hold you to that."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me. Start inspiring."

-

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?" Louis finally cracks, turning on him with an exasperated look.

"What?" Harry slightly laughs. "What do you mean?"

Lou was just going on about how shit his and Liam's new schedules are and how it means they won't get to see each other nearly as much as last semester and that it's all Liam's fault for having a different major than him or they could have been in more classes together, and Harry wasn't even saying anything, so why does he look annoyed?

"Why are you smiling so much?" Louis demands. "It's fucking weird, and it looks like it's physically hurting your face."

"Oh, am I? I hadn't realized." Harry shrugs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as they keep walking.

"Stop that. It's creepy," his roommate whines. "Were you even listening to me?"

"Course I was," he says as sincerely as he can.

"Liar." Louis rolls his eyes. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this has something to do with someone other than Zayn, but I do, and I've grown tired of trying to warn you about him, so what is it this time?"

"What? This isn't about-" He cuts himself off at the blank stare he receives. "Okay, it is, but it's not like that, I swear."

Lou scoffs unbelievingly. "Oh yeah? What is it like then?"

"He's just asked me to help him out, or like, well, I offered first to help him with a project of his that's due by Friday, so I'm meeting him in the art lab and at his and Niall's flat after his shift everyday this week," Harry tries to explain casually.

"Hmm," Louis hums as he opens the door to the coffee house and makes his way in, "estranged friends with a past working together alone to meet a goal in a short period of time. That doesn't sound like the plot of a bad fan fiction at all."

Harry huffs, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, Lou. Who said we were going to be alone?"

"Hazza!" Olivia pats his leg as soon as he's sat on the couch. "Thank you so much for covering for me with Zayn today. I heard everything went well."

"Oh yes," Louis pipes up from his spot on his boyfriend's lap, "why don't you tell her _just_ how well it went, Harold?"

Why are they friends again? Why does he even tell him anything? Harry's not sure, and he'd like to pretend he didn't hear Louis say a word, but he can't because he knows that he has to respond, because his best friend's peering at him expectantly right now, Liam appears to be a bit curious as well, and his flatmate's overall a little shit.

"Well, um, we're actually- Zayn and I are actually meeting up in a few minutes because I've offered to help him out with his art project. I'm sure you- you know about it."

"Right, he told me that earlier." Olivia nods with an easy smile. "You're meeting him at the lab everyday this week also, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Harry replies, resisting the urge to throw a smug look Louis' way because _see_ , it isn't as big of a deal as he's making it out to be, or at least that's what he's going to keep telling himself until he believes it to be true.

"That's amazing! I wanted to ask if you could do that for me anyway, because I'm going to be super on the hop this week with the party and everything."

"Wait, what p-"

"Did I hear someone say something about a party?" Niall's suddenly behind Harry on the arm of the sofa, causing him to flinch. He flings his hand up to his heart because jeez.

"Oh, Zayn's birthday's coming up, innit? You're throwing him a party?" Liam asks interestedly, and Louis' face lights up.

"We're getting free booze?"

Niall's does too. "Sick!"

Harry wishes he could share in their excitement, and ordinarily, he would, but something doesn't feel quite right this time. "Um, Liv, are you sure that's a good idea? It doesn't exactly sound like something Zayn would want."

"No, it'll be brill! I'm telling you, Haz. I'm having it right here upstairs on Friday night, and I've even invited his sisters. It's going to be smashing," she assures him. "He's going to love it."

Confusion runs across Louis' face. "Wait, Friday night? Isn't his birthday on Sunday?"

"That's where the surprise comes in, duh. It's going to be big. I have so much planning to do. This is his first birthday where he has me as his girlfriend, so I have to go all out."

"Olivia, I really don't think-"

"Vas happenin'?"

"-that Zayn will be much longer," Harry finishes loudly. What is with people sneaking up behind him this evening? He turns to face him and gives him a nervous smile. "Hey, Zayn."

"Hi, Harry." Zayn smiles and runs a hand down his back. "Hey, Louis, Liam, Niall. Hey, you." He steps over to Olivia and leans down to capture her lips in a short kiss. Harry doesn't turn away, as much as he wants to, only blinks a little longer than necessary as the lyrics of one of his new songs plays in his head:

_I'm tryna be okay, I'm tryna be alright_  
_But seeing you with him  
Just don't feel right_

"Missed you today," Zayn tells her, squeezing in between his girlfriend and Harry on the couch as he wraps his arm around her shoulder.

"Please, I'm certain you were doing just fine with Harry." She softly smiles up at him and rests her head on his chest. "It's so great that you're both going to be spending more time with each other this week. I'll be sure to stay out of the way of guy time," she states, subtly shooting a wink at her best friend.

Zayn's face contorts with confusion and something unreadable. "Are you sure? Because you could still come-"

"Positive, babe." She presses a kiss to his lips before he can say anything else. "Now, don't you two have to get going?"

"Olivia, I just got here."

-

"Is it just me or was she acting a bit weird?" Zayn glances at Harry as they both walk en route to his flat building.

Harry wants to tell him about the party. Maybe give him a little heads up because he's not sure if Zayn'll like it, but Olivia would kill him if he did, so he just shrugs instead. "Just Liv being Liv, I think."

"Right," Zayn says slowly, and it's quiet for a few minutes after that.

"So um, how was work?" Harry spouts the first thing that comes to mind. He immediately bites down on his lip. That was a stupid thing to ask.

Or maybe not, because Zayn visibly perks up, and Harry's heart swells at the sight. "It was quite interesting, actually. We just got this new stock of comic books in today that we’d been waiting to get for weeks now. One of them is one that’s really been talked about recently, but I wasn’t terribly excited for it because I’d read the précis, and it seemed proper unoriginal and cliché and just like most of the others that I’ve read or seen on screen, but I had a quick look at the issue while I was putting it in on the stand, and it was so cool because although it seems that I was right to assume all those things, it reminded of a comic book that I had as a kid where the main guy was like- you're doing it again."

"You're doing it again?" Harry echoes in bewilderment. "Was that his catchphrase or something?"

Zayn laughs and shakes his head. "No, Harry, you're doing it again."

"What? What am I doing?" Cue the internal panic.

"You're looking at me all weird. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had a thing for my face, Styles." Zayn nudges his shoulder playfully.

Harry scoffs, making a face. "That's ridiculous. How could I ever have anything for you?" He lies through his teeth.

"Ouch," Zayn grumbles.

"Wait, no!" He rapidly works to remedy when he hears that. "No. No, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you're my- you're my friend... or at least I think you are. I don't know, things are kind of complicated with us lately, but you're- but you're dating Liv, so I could never, and we could never, and I just-" He just wants to die, basically. What is he even trying to say at this point? "Jesus Christ. Never mind. How's the project coming along? Has inspiration struck yet?"

Zayn gazes back at him with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, probably second-hand, and chuckles. "Uh, yeah. Kind of?" He replies despite it. "I wanted to run it by you first."

"Shoot."

"How do you feel about body paint?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but hey! I updated! So sorry for the long wait, but I was heartbroken and convinced love was dead, so I had no motivation to write even when I tried to, but I'm back for now, and I hope you enjoyed :))
> 
> Comment and lemme know if you did x


	8. take it off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, things go from 0-100 real quick.

He'd never say it out loud, but he's thought of being in this exact same spot on multiple occasions before. He'd envisioned it differently, of course, but now that he finally is, he's practically shaking in his boots at the very notion.

He's standing in the doorway of Zayn's bedroom, which he's definitely done in the past, but the situation's changed, no doubt.

For one thing, it's been so long, so there's a sense of nostalgia looming over him. Memories of falling asleep with Zayn on his bed after "dinner and a movie" (as they'd sometimes jokingly referred to takeout and old superhero films) throng his mind, and flashbacks of him studying between Zayn's legs with his back to his chest are making an appearance as well.

Also, last he was here, the fact of him being in love with Zayn was still unknown to Harry himself, so there's that, and along with it comes the greatest source of his woes: all the mental pictures of what they could be doing with this opportunity right now that he's not sure his heart can handle but that his brain keeps throwing at him nonetheless. It's all very nice.

"Aren't you coming in?" Zayn's voice breaks him out of his reverie.

Harry gazes over at him and can't help the smile that graces his features. He looks a bit nervous too. At the prospect of having Harry in his space after so much time has passed, or at how awkward everything is bound to get in only a few minutes, he doesn't know, but it's nice to know that he's not alone.

"I know it's messy, but nothing's gonna come out and bite you." Zayn throws his bag to the ground and pulls on his ear. He doesn't turn for a minute, but when he does, Harry can see an amused twinkle flashing in his eyes. "They're all too shy for that," he adds with a wicked grin, seeming to get a hold of his uneasiness.

That makes Harry chuckle and get his somewhat under control as well. His shoulders slightly sag with ease. "I want to say you're joking, but there's really no way for me to know for sure, is there?" He steps forward to place his things on the chair at Zayn's desk.

"'Fraid not, babe." Zayn winks. "You can sit on the bed while I get everything ready if you'd like."

False alarm. Harry's nerves come back full circle, and he gulps. Zayn just mentioned the b word.

He supposes it's his own fault for allowing his bag to occupy the only other available seat, so eying the bed cautiously, he sucks it up and wills his inappropriate thoughts to go away. "The bed. Yeah, sure." He strides over to it and supplies a polite smile as soon as he's sat.

_I'm fine. This is fine._

“Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea?" Zayn offers, speaking up over the sound of him rummaging through his closet. "Maybe some dinner? I think we've got leftover Chinese in the fridge if you'd like it."

"I'm alright, thanks," Harry tells him a bit distractedly, because he'd never really thought much about it before, but Zayn has a really nice back. He can especially tell now that's he's crouched down, out of his jacket and only wearing a tight T-shirt.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Harry mumbles, tugging on his bottom lip. He tries looking away from the view, and again tries not think about where he's sitting, and about what they could be doing, but he fails miserably because it's been ages, and he can't quit imagining what it'd be like to bite at the tattoo near the base of Zayn's neck. He wants to kiss every inch of his caramel skin in sight, and he hates that, so he pinches himself. It doesn't really help. He's pitiable.

"Right, here we are," Zayn says triumphantly, coming back up with a container filled with a myriad of brushes and tubes of paints. "I think that's everything we need." Harry attempts another smile just for him, but Zayn squints. "Are you sure you're really okay with this? You seem a bit on edge."

He swears he's not always this easily readable. Zayn just constantly causes him to lose all composure.

Harry shakes his head. "Course I am. Why wouldn't I be? I said I'd help out, didn't I?"

"You did." Zayn nods slowly. "I'm just making sure you're not having second thoughts."

"About helping you? Never." He says it earnestly and means it wholeheartedly, and he guesses that Zayn can tell because a soft smile is soon shot his way.

"Cheers, H. I really appreciate this. Can you take your shirt off then?"

Harry smirks. Something ignites in him at those words. "At least buy me dinner first, Malik."

Zayn simpers back, and _thank God._ It would not bode well for him if he didn't. "Thought you didn't want any, babe."

Harry shrugs with another grin. "Maybe I just didn't want Chinese."

"So picky." Zayn playfully rolls his eyes. "Tell you what, if I promise to get you some dinner after, then will you take your shirt off?"

"I don't know," he starts carefully, poking his tongue out to wet at his lip. "Why don't you?"

Wait a minute. That came out way more suggestive than he intended.

He made it sound like he wanted Zayn to undress him or something, when really, he was asking him why he didn't take _his_ shirt off instead. Which- which doesn't really make it much better, does it? God, he's such an idiot. He knows that they were bantering, maybe even flirting, but that took it to another level. He probably made things all awkward, and now Zayn won't want to talk to him anymore, and he just messed everything up like he always-

"Tempting," Zayn muses with a suave smile. "But I think you can handle it."

Has Harry mentioned that he loves him? Because he does, and he doesn't know how he ever got so lucky to find someone like him, so he stands from where he's seated at the edge of the bed and swiftly pulls his shirt over his head like Zayn asked. He's tempted to sultrily toss it to the side like he would if this were any other situation, but he thinks he'd be pushing his luck if he did.

Zayn blows a breath out and tosses him a tube of body paint. "You're not allergic to anything that's in there, are you?" He asks, so Harry begins to survey the label. "Because I'm going to be using a shedload of it, and I wouldn't want anything happening to you because of me."

Harry beams at the concern. "I have no idea. I mean, not from what I can tell, but I guess we'll just have to watch to find out, won't we?"

"Harry." Zayn gives him a flat look.

"Kidding. I'm kidding," he quickly assures him, glancing up. "I'm sure we're good, Zayn." Or at least he hopes they are. That sure would put a damper on things if he were allergic to something that he's about to have all over his upper body. "Now, where do you want me?"

 _Fuck_. He just did it again. He really needs to think before he speaks.

Color races to his face this time, try as he might to impede it, but Zayn simply arches an eyebrow, still looking so annoyingly amused. "On your back on the floor, if you don't mind."

Harry glimpses over to where he points. "Aren't you worried about the carpet getting all messed up?"

Zayn shrugs uncaringly. "Not really. Maybe I would be if we were doing this outside, because Niall would lose his shit, but it doesn't really matter to me."

Harry nods before taking his place and a deep breath. "Whenever you're ready then." He dimples encouragingly up at Zayn who's busied himself with mixing the paints he's about to use. He doesn't look up for a second, and although Harry misses the sight of his eyes, he can't help noticing that Zayn's even more beautiful in his element. He hasn't even started painting yet, but he already looks so enthralled with what he's doing.

He joins Harry some time later with everything he needs at his side. He kneels next to him and reaches over to rest a hand on his hip. Harry manages not to gasp at the gesture, but the task becomes increasingly harder when Zayn unconsciously starts tracing patterns there with his thumb. Shivers instantly run across his body, but there's nothing he can do about it.

"Are you comfortable?"

Harry thinks Zayn's the best for asking, and even though he isn't entirely, he replies with a "Yeah, I'm great," and a smile. How could he not?

"Let me know at any point if you aren't," Zayn instructs him gently before bringing a hand up to stroke a wet paintbrush across his stomach. Harry hadn't even realized he'd already dipped it in the paint. He heaves and releases a shaky breath, only because he wasn't expecting it. Not because he strangely got turned on by the action or anything.

"Um, right. Will do," he promises, trying to keep how affected all this has made him out of his voice.

It's not easy, so not much is said after that, and Harry's closed his eyes to focus on anything but the feeling of Zayn's hands all over him and the satisfying sensation of the paintbrush making its way to all corners of his skin, but he's pulled back to reality when he hears Zayn clear his throat a couple minutes later.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" He hums when he catches sight of his favorite brown spheres.

"Your jeans."

Harry's eyes widen immediately because he didn't think he had a hard on, but he was really relaxed, so he didn't even notice, and that must be it because Zayn looks really uncomfortable right now, and ugh, he wishes the ground would just open up and swallow him whole. He makes to get up, but-

"No, don't move!" Zayn instantly shouts, putting a firm hand on his chest to keep him down. "I just- I just need them off. I need your jeans off."

His eyes round even more, and he's certain he's daydreaming again because those words did not just leave Zayn's pretty mouth. "You _what_?"

"Er, shit." He curses, likely sussing out how that sounded. "No, what I mean is I need some more space to paint, and your jeans are in the way. Do you mind?"

He doesn't know whether to feel relieved or dispirited. He's managing a bit of both. "Oh. I don't, but how am I supposed to get out of them if I can't move? They're also um, pretty tight, so that makes things harder."

"I can see that." Zayn gives his pants a quick once over and nods before looking back up at his face. "I could take them off for you if you're okay with it."

He says it so nonchalantly that Harry almost chokes, and now he's sure he's stepped into an alternate universe where his ideas of heaven and hell have merged together, because trust him when he says that he wants nothing more in this moment than to watch Zayn do that. He's just not sure he'll be able to handle it. He can feel a semi coming on at the very thought, and he could never show his face to Zayn again if that happened, so he should probably try to get out of his jeans himself.

"Yeah, okay. That's fine," is what he hears himself answer, however, as it turns out he's a massive masochist, which explains a lot.

Zayn's fingers clutch at his zipper not a minute later, and Harry steels himself as they unhurriedly begin to pull it down. He immediately draws his eyes closed once more, squeezing them shut as he makes an effort to concentrate on what he'd like for dinner and not on how Zayn's fingers lightly graze his hips as they tuck into his jeans. They scrape against his skin and catch slightly on his pants, and Harry trembles under the touch.

He wants to grab at Zayn's shoulders and hungrily yank him up to his lips. He wants to run his fingers through his hair and bring their bodies together to see what new color they'd make. He wants _Zayn Zayn Zayn,_ so much that he's practically writhing in place.

He inhales deeply and exhales. He's being fucking ridiculous, he tells himself. This really isn't as big of a deal as he's making it out to be, so he chances a look at Zayn.

He was wrong, predictably, because apparently, he was worried for a good reason, and he really shouldn't have done that, because when his eyes flutter open, he finds that Zayn's are already staring back at him. He swallows.

His jeans aren't quite off yet, and Zayn's still working on it at a painfully slow rate, but there's more. There's more because he can see something there this time. Not only have Zayn's eyes grown darker, but they look full-blown, and there's something almost hungry-like in them.

Time seems to cease in that moment where they're just leering at each other, and Harry almost forgets to breathe. His heart is pounding in his chest. His fingers are itching to reach for Zayn. His body is aching for him.

"Zayn." He doesn't know what he wants to say, but he knows that he should say something. Something to move this along, or maybe something to slow it down even more. He hasn't got a clue.

Fortunately, it turns out that he doesn't have to, because Zayn smiles, and Zayn looks away first, finishing what he started, but not in the way that Harry wanted. He breaks the spell, and he releases a breath, tugging at his ear again. "I should uh, get back to working on the painting now. Don't worry. I'm almost finished, and soon you'll be free to go."

Harry wants to say that he wasn't worried, that he wouldn't mind if he had to stay here and have Zayn paint on him forever, but he can't bring himself to say anything, so he simply nods and smiles too, because they both know that it's the right thing to do.

"Glad I could help, Z. I'm glad I could help you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied,, it was more like 0-20-0 real quick  
> Anywhos, thoughts?


	9. tell me a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanging out, party planning, Olivia revealing some secrets, and her finally noticing some things on her own.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Is it bad? It's bad, isn't it? It's bad, and I've not done justice to your painting. It's okay. You can say it. Lay it on me."

Zayn unexpectedly snorts, and Harry doesn't like it. Or well, he does, because it's adorable, but still.

It's several awkward moments later, and he's still lying on the ground in Zayn's bedroom. He wouldn't mind it much if it weren't for the fact that his back has started to ache, and though Zayn's finished painting, he has to stay where he is because Zayn's head is tilted, and his eyes have been heavily scrutinizing his work for the past couple minutes. They rake over his body, and goosebumps have taken residence beneath all the paint on him because of it.

He's sure the painting couldn't possibly have turned out poorly since Zayn's the artist behind it, but the way he's looking at Harry is causing him to feel as though maybe it did, and he's not sure he's ready for the verdict. This is the first time he's had someone painted on him, and this person is Zayn, so he especially wants it to be good.

"I like it, Harry, I promise," Zayn answers eventually with an easy smile. He pats at Harry's thigh. "How could I not when I've got the perfect canvas right here?"

On the inside, Harry's heart thumps unenviably against his chest. On the outside, however, he rolls his eyes and also tries for a smile. "Flatterer."

Zayn grins and doesn't bother denying it. "Do me a favor and stay right there? I promise you can move in a bit. I just need to get a few photos, yeah?"

"Of me? What would your girlfriend say, Malik?" Harry hates the way he thinks sometimes.

"Bet she'd say that you're an idiot," Zayn jokes back, returning with his phone. He begins snapping a few pictures of his work for class, and Harry does his best to remain still as he does so. He studies the concentrated look on Zayn's face to have something to do, and he sets out to memorize the color of his tongue that's jutting out between his teeth.

"So," he starts when he thinks he's got it down, and Zayn is helping him to his feet. "Are you still treating me to dinner? I did take my shirt _and_ strides off," he reminds him teasingly, "so I think I deserve double."

Zayn chuckles and squeezes both of Harry's hands. "Whatever you want, babe. You've been a massive help, so what would you like-" He cuts himself off as his phone loudly buzzes from where he's just thrown it on the bed. He releases Harry's hands to retrieve it once more, and Harry struggles not to mourn the loss. Zayn smiles down at his cell as soon as he glances at the screen, and Harry doesn't even have to ask who texted. "Looks like you're in luck. Liv just asked if we're about done here because she's on her way over with food, so we don't even have to go out. Yayyy," he mock cheers.

Harry would find it endearing if his heart wasn't breaking. "Oh. That's- that's great. I'll go get cleaned up then." He'd be lying if he said he didn't physically feel himself plunging into what he's come to know as the dark place, (he's so dramatic) but he guesses this is for the best. Dinner alone with Zayn would have been dangerous.

He heads to the bathroom, where he gives himself a stern pep talk that mostly consists of him stopping himself from pouting, and Olivia arrives just as he's making his way out of it and to the living area. He's now fully clothed, even though he'd prefer not to be, and focusing on how a bit of the paint is still stuck to his skin, but he forgets that and has to halt in his tracks as soon as he sees Zayn leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. His eyes shut down instinctively, and he blows a breath out as he attempts to push the image out of his head.

"There you are, darling. I brought you your favorite." His best friend greets him warmly when she's aware of his presence. "I also picked up a few snacks and stuff. I was thinking we could all hang out here for a while and watch a film or something. You up for that?"

Harry casually shrugs, his previous self-lecture playing in the back of his mind. "Free food and lazing around with two of my best friends? How could I refuse?"

He doesn't miss their eyebrows shooting up and the incredulous look they both share. They're surprised. He doesn't blame them.

"Really? You're staying? You're not going to make up some excuse about having too much work or something, like you usually do when we ask you to chill with just us two?"

"Zayn!" Olivia scolds her boyfriend as she turns to him with a scandalized look. "Be nice." She glimpses back at Harry timidly. "But you do always do that, Haz."

He guesses that he shouldn't even try to deny it. He has made it quite obvious in the last few months that he'd rather be anywhere else than in a room where Zayn and Olivia are all over each other, but he's willing to give this a shot tonight.

"What can I say? I'm a very busy man, and besides, I don't like being around doting couples much." He doesn't let them think about that too long lest they realize that he's completely fine hanging about Louis and Liam who are sometimes doubly affectionate with each other. "But it's a new year, so yes, I'd love to stay."

"Sick!" Liv squeals happily. "I'll go pour us some drinks. Why don't you boys pick a film while I'm at it?" On her way to the kitchen, she stops in front of Harry and reaches up to peck his cheek. "You're the best for trying, you know that?" Her hand remains on his cheek as she smiles up at him. "Thank you, babe."

Harry does his best to beam back just as sweetly. God, he really doesn't deserve her. He shakes his head and ruffles his hair before turning back to Zayn who's now staring at him calculatingly.

"You didn't have to say yes, you know," he says. "If you wanted to leave, we'd understand."

Harry dimples at him as a distraction. "You saying you don't want me here?"

Zayn smiles back but doesn't quite look like he's let the whole thing go. He brings a hand up to his heart. "Would I ever say that?" He looks like he thinks it over. "Don't answer that. Come on." He gestures to the telly. "What do you want to watch, and _don't_ say a romantic comedy this time."

The three of them end up pigging out together on the couch and having a movie night. They fuss and argue about what to watch and make fun of each other for their preferences, and Harry loves it. He's taken back to the few nights they'd had like this before Zayn and Olivia started dating.

"What kind of boyfriend are you? You're supposed to be on my side." Olivia playfully pushes at Zayn's arm before crossing her own. "But you're choosing Harry? My best friend? Over me? I'd rather you- you tell me a lie or something. This is breaking my heart."

"Can he help it that my side is clearly better though?" Harry smirks, wrapping an arm around Zayn's shoulder to tug him closer. "Sorry, Liv. He's mine now." He lifts his shoulder in a careless shrug. Or at least he is in his dreams.

Zayn snickers. "Oh, am I now?" He glances up at him through his lashes, amused. He raises a hand to put some popcorn into his mouth and begins chewing on it devastatingly slowly. "I'm yours, Styles?"

"You are," Harry lets himself declare despite the butterflies that flit about in his stomach due to the proximity of Zayn's pretty smiling, buttery lips. He gulps. "Aren't you?"

Zayn grins, his tongue poking out between his teeth again. "Sure, I'll be whatever you want me to be, babe. I'm yours, long as you return the favor," he chats back.

And Harry's breath hitches. He knows that Zayn isn't being serious, but it's still nice to have those words directed at him. "Well, that’s only fair. You’re mine, love, and I'm yours too." The only difference is that he means it.

"Oh my _God_ ," Liv cuts in, and oh, Harry sort of forgot she was there. What the fuck is wrong with him? "Can you two stop being disgustingly adorable for two minutes? I'm trying to feel upset and betrayed here."

Harry awkwardly laughs to play it off and charmingly winks at her before turning his attention back to the movie. Most of it, anyway. The rest remains on Zayn who's still leaning into his touch.

Niall joins them a bit later when he gets home, and Olivia's grateful to finally have someone on her side after losing the argument with Zayn and Harry about who the best Hollywood Chris really is.

The entire evening is nice. It's more than nice. It's nicer than he ever expected it to be, and a part of him regrets not doing something like this with them sooner, because when he looks down on his chest and sees Zayn laughing, when he looks down and feels his insides melt, he knows that he'll take it, even if Zayn's fingers are still interlaced with Liv's. He'll take it. He has to, because Zayn's lying in his arms, and he looks happy, and Harry _is_ happy, and he will take having Zayn in his life in any shape and/or form, as long as he gets to hear that laugh and see that smile and that little twinkle in his eyes. He'll take it.

-

"Harry Edward Styles, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He takes a gander at his watch. "I don't know," he drones. "How much time do you have?"

Olivia huffs on the other end of the call. " _Babe_ , seriously. Why aren't you with Zayn right now? I just called to check on how things are going, and he tells me that he's all alone."

"Zayn?" He repeats confused. "I hadn't- I hadn’t realized that he still wanted me to show up today since he finished his painting last night."

"Are you kidding me? Do you really think that he only asked for you to meet him in the lab all week because he wanted you to help him with his piece?"

"Um, yes?"

"Well, you're wrong, you wanker!" He can practically hear her eyes roll and see her _how_ _much_ _of_ _an_ _idiot_ _are_ _you_ face. "Believe it or not, he actually loves spending time with you, for some odd reason, and he wants you around. He's so happy that your friendship is back to normal."

His eyebrows crease. "He is?"

"Yes. Trust me. Ever since that first day at the cabin, he hasn't shut up about you," Liv goes on. "Sort of reminds me of when we first started dating. For some time, I wondered if you were the only thing we had in common because you were all he talked about. He really loves you, kid." Harry's not sure what to do with that information. "Now will you do me a favor and stop being a knobhead? If you're not busy, can you please make your way over there now because my baby's all by himself, and he seems to be in a bit of a mood today. Normally, I wouldn't put something like this on you, because you and I both know how withdrawn and broody he can get on days like this, and you know that I'd be with him in a heartbeat if I wasn't so busy planning this party, so could you please?"

His mind's still trying to process all she's just said to him, but he forces himself back to focus. He can think about Zayn loving him later. He's sure he would have done so whether she told him all that or not, but that's besides the point. "Right. About that, are you sure this whole party thing is a good idea?"

She doesn't miss a beat. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know." He frowns. "It just doesn't really seem like something Zayn would be into is all."

Olivia hums, and he's almost certain she's stopped listening to him by now. "I'm not sure what you mean, but I've got to hang up now, sweetie. This guy's getting everything all wrong, and I'd tell him he's a right plonker if I weren't an active member of your ‘treat people with kindness’ club. I'll see you at the coffee house later though. I love you."

He fears he knows her too well.

-

"Let me guess," Zayn drawls, pulling the door open for him but not stepping aside to let him in. "Liv called and told you to head right over because I was alone?"

Harry hesitates. "Well..." He doesn't sound very happy about it, and he certainly doesn't look as happy as he did last night to have Harry around. "I brought coffee, if that helps." He presents it with a flourish and dimples. "And it's your favoriteee." He waves the cup in front of Zayn's face enthusiastically.

But all Zayn does is sigh. He lowers Harry's hand, and Harry purses his lips. "You didn't have to, Harry. I appreciate the coffee and you coming over, but I know how to be by myself."

"I know." He does. He remembers that from back when they were close, how sometimes Zayn wouldn't want to leave his apartment and come out with him because he didn't "feel like people." Harry remembers how empty he felt on those days without Zayn, and when he figured out his feelings, it all made sense. "It's just that I promised you I'd be here all week. I mean, I just didn't think I still had to given you finished your project last night, but I'm here now."

Zayn's brows pinch together. "I finished my project?"

"Yes? The- the body paint?" Harry says. "Wasn't that it?" Or did he imagine that whole scene?

"Oh, that." Zayn shakes his head. "Nah."

"It wasn't?"

"No, I was just trying something out. 'm supposed to like challenge myself by painting something from a different perspective, so I figured body painting," he explains, "but I'm not sure if that's what I'm going to turn in, at least, not for this assignment."

Harry slightly pouts again. "What, you didn't like it?"

"No, I loved it," Zayn assures him. "I just think it's-" He cuts himself off. "Never mind. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do is all."

Harry nods, and his eyes catch on something inside the room. "Well, what about that?"

"What?"

He points at it. "That sketch you were working on before I knocked on the door."

Zayn looks back it, and for a second, Harry thinks he sees panic grace his features. "Oh. No, I can't- it's not- that's my personal sketchbook."

Harry's interest is piqued. "So I can't see it?"

Zayn noticeably grips onto the door tighter and steps forward to try to block Harry's view of inside. "It's not finished."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"Did you say you had my favorite coffee?"

Harry grins. "I did, but are you really trying to distract me right now?"

Zayn bites his lip. "That depends. Is it working?"

"It is not."

He abruptly grabs at Harry's free hand. "Then let's go out."

"What?" He'll admit that did the job.

"To the cafe," Zayn quickly finishes. "Or something. I don't know. If you want. I just thought maybe we could do something since we didn't really get the chance to last night, just the two of us."

Harry essentially chokes. "The two of us?"

Zayn nods, swinging their intertwined hands. "Well, I did promise you dinner, didn't I? Is lunch okay instead?"

Harry doesn't know what to say, but Zayn's looking up at him expectantly with those wide, beautiful, brown eyes, and he realizes that he doesn't even have to think about his answer.

He chuckles awkwardly. "You really don't want me to see what's in that book, do you?"

-

"Liam, have I told you that you're the best roommate ever? You're so amazing helping me out like this. I can't thank you enough." Olivia hauls him in for a big hug. She turns to the other lad in room. "And Louis... you're here too. So thanks, I guess."

Liam chuckles, pulling away from her to place the last of the boxes of decorations in the corner.

"Hey, I helped," Louis protests as he hops off the counter. "I'm practically the most important person in this whole operation."

"'Supervising' doesn't count as helping," Niall announces, catching the end of the conversation as he waltzes through the door to the back room of the cafe. "You guys finished with everything?" He asks. "My shift's almost over, so I'm leaving soon."

"Yeah, I think that's it for today." Olivia nods, looking around at their progress. "Great work today, boys, and by boys I still mean just Liam." She pulls on her jacket and grabs her phone off the counter. "I should check in with Harry now to see how everything's going on his end."

"Oh, no need," Niall tells her. "He's out there having lunch with Zayn right now."

Olivia stops in her tracks. "He's- he's what?"

Niall shrugs. "They got here a couple minutes ago. He actually seems to be in a much better mood than he was this morning. I thought you knew."

"Well I didn't," she replies pointedly. "I thought they were in the lab. What was he thinking? Zayn can't know that I'm here."

Louis arches his eyebrows. "In the cafe? That we all hang out in? Every single day?"

Olivia fixes him a glare. "Don't you think he'll find it a bit sus that we're all here without them and in the back room of all places? The surprise will be ruined!" She moves over to door and stands on the tips of her toes to peek through it. She spots Zayn and Harry talking over a meal at a table in the corner. Zayn laughs big at something Harry says, and his eyes crinkle at the corners like they always seem to do whenever he's around. "I thought they were supposed to be working on Zaynie's project."

"I guess they define work the same as Louis," Liam pipes up next to her.

She can't bring herself to laugh at that like she usually would. Something turning in her head as she keeps her eyes trained on them is stopping her. "Well, Zayn did finish his painting last night, so I guess they didn't have much to do... They look like they're getting along jolly well, huh?"

"Maybe a bit too well," she hears Louis mutter, but she doesn't respond. She doesn't know how.

"Niall's been in the back for a long time now, don't you think?" Harry points out after all the laughter has calmed down. "Or did he already leave?"

After he remembered how words worked, Harry reluctantly (but not really) agreed to grab lunch with Zayn, and after he packed up all his supplies, he and Harry left the art center and headed over to the cafe to get a quick meal before their next classes. Niall had served them and chatted with them for a bit before he excused himself and completely disappeared. Harry wouldn't like to admit that he was only dimly aware of his absence until now.

"His shift finished a while ago, I think, but he should still be around here somewhere," Zayn answers, pinching off a piece of his cookie. "Did you want to get out of here now?"

Harry allows his eyes to roam over to the door of the back room which he's sure he saw Niall go into. He believes he sees someone duck their head down as soon as he does, but he doesn't think much about it. "Sure. I'm sure we'll see him later. Where to now?"

Harry's head suddenly whips in their direction, and Olivia has to stealthily bob down and pull Liam and Louis down with her before he can catch them watching.

She rests her head back against the door and releases a breath. "I haven't seen either of them smile so much in a while- unless we’re counting last night," she says more to herself than them. She wets her lips and steels herself. "Boys... can I ask you something?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Know it’s been a while, but here is the long awaited chapter. This week is finals week, so I should have more free time to write after this, so that’s good. The end of the book is actually coming up pretty soon, but there are still a few chapters left, so keep an eye out for those.
> 
> Just wanna thank you guys so much for reading and for motivating me. Be sure to comment what you thought about this chapter or maybe your thoughts on the boys’ latest fire singles or you can just come say hi to me, if you want. I’m nice :))
> 
> Anyway, you guys have a good day! x


	10. I’d walk through fire for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s party time! ;)

Harry's always been a morning person. He's long since adored the feeling of his eyes greeting the sunlight as his heart and lungs expand and he mentally prepares for another day. He's loved the smell of the morning ever since he can remember, loved how it felt making out the various colours painted across the sky as bright as the backlit images of cinema screens, loved how it felt like new possibilities and fresh chances. He's always appreciated mornings in their entirety.

Zayn, on the other hand, is not a morning person and has never been. When they'd first met, Harry was sure Zayn didn't even know what morning looked like, much less was familiar with its scent, given that he rarely saw his brown-eyed boy before noon.

These days, he isn't so bad, but there still isn't a living soul willing to wake Zayn up before nine in the morning. Even Louis doesn't have the heart to do so, and he likes annoying everyone, so no one can blame Harry for being surprised when he finds Zayn waiting for him, two cups of coffee in hand, outside his lecture hall at the end of his _eight_ _o'clock_ class.

"I finished it," Zayn says as way of greeting, handing one of the cups over to Harry.

Harry chuckles slightly. Zayn's eyes are large and bright, and he isn't sure if it's courtesy of the coffee or the excitement that seems to be radiating off him. "Good morning to you too."

"Sorry. Morning, babe." He steps closer and plants a quick kiss on Harry's cheek before backing away again. "How was class?"

Harry instantly pinks and curses under his breath. _Get a hold of yourself, Styles._ He orders the color on his cheeks to decamp because he doesn't fucking blush, dammit.

Or he thought he didn't, but that's becoming increasingly harder to believe as Zayn seems to be doing that a lot lately, peppering him with pecks when he's particularly pleased with something Harry's said or done, or catching him off guard with a tight hug or two. Harry guesses he's just trying to get things back to the way they were before they grew apart.

He appreciates that, despite how flustered it makes him feel, so he smiles at Zayn. "It was alright. What are you doing here? I didn't think you knew the sun rose before nine." Harry didn't think it did either, but he stands corrected as the sun stands right in front of him.

Zayn rolls his eyes fondly, Harry likes to think, but ignores him. "I finished it."

"I'm assuming we're talking about your project here, and not all the episodes of Rick and Morty available on Netflix again."

" _Well_..."

" _Zayn_."

"I'm kidding." He giggles absolutely adorably. "Come with me to give it in? I know you have a break right now, and I don't have class until ten, so we have some time."

Harry pretends to mull it over. "Will you finally show it to me if I do? It's been days, and I still have no idea what you've painted."

Zayn shrugs, gesturing with his head in the direction they're headed. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"So you've said," Harry narrows his eyes as they fall into step, "but I'm still not sure why."

Zayn shrugs again, bumping Harry's shoulder with his own. "You think too much."

Harry can't argue with that.

They walk the rest of the way to the art center and make straight for the lab where Zayn is keeping his piece.

"I booked the lab a bit earlier today just to finish up, but someone else is probably in there by now. I'm just going to pop in and get it for less of a disruption."

Harry nods understandingly, and Zayn leaves, returning shortly after with his work covered.

For the first time all morning, he appears nervous as if he's overthinking everything, and Harry frowns at the prospect. The brown skin on Zayn's knuckles are almost white where he's clutching tightly at the edges of the canvas, and his teeth scrape incessantly against his bottom lip as he chews on it.

"You okay?" Harry asks, instantly concerned.

Zayn looks up, and clouded eyes meet Harry's green ones. He tries for a smile, tugging at the hair at the base of his neck, and something tugs at Harry's heart. "Yeah, it's just, er..."

"Right." Harry nods. "Well, you know you don't have to." He gestures at the painting. "I'm okay with you not showing it to me." Zayn shouldn't have to do anything that causes him to look as anxious as he does right now.

"I know," Zayn says firmly. "But I want to. This is really important to me." He takes a deep breath, bracing himself, then determinedly pulls the cover off and unveils what he'd been working on for hours on end, at any chance he got, for days.

Harry's breath hitches. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it surely wasn't this- this, the sight of a single eye brought to life with every hue of the forest; this, an orb lined with resplendent flecks of gold and brown, rimmed carefully with moss; this, an array of tints that pooled together to picturesquely create an image that reminded him of summertime when sunrays filtered through the leaves of a tree and warmed each of them in the process; this, the similarly warming sensation of Zayn encompassing every inch of Harry's heart and permanently making a home there. He was expecting anything but this.

"So, uh, what do you think?" Zayn speaks up, his voice slightly wavering. He's sucking on his bottom lip again, and Harry would suggest saving him the trouble by just doing it for him (he wouldn't) if he didn't feel as if there was a sand storm in his mouth. He felt choked up and hadn't the slightest idea what to say.

"It's... it's... wow," he utters on a breath, trying but failing to communicate exactly what emotions are running through him. "Is that...?"

"It's you," Zayn confirms softly. "Or well, it's your eye. It's not as great or as detailed as I wanted it to be because I didn't really have enough time to work on it, but it's alright." He pulls on one of his ears, looking anywhere but at Harry. "Do you like-"

"I love it," he rushes to assure him. "I can't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. It's brilliant. It's remarkable. I love it," he repeats lest Zayn forget. "Thank you, Z."

He shrugs like it's no big deal, but Harry catches the skin along his ears darkening. "It was nothing. I draw you all the time, so this was pretty easy." Harry raises both his eyebrows. Wait, he does? He hadn't known that. Why would he- "Well I mean- I- I draw _you_ _guys_ all the time." Oh. That makes more sense. "You and the others. And Olivia. All the time. All of you," Zayn rapidly rectifies.

Well, that makes Harry feel a little less special. Nevertheless, "You're so mushy, Zayn." He playfully pokes at his shoulder, pretending his heart didn't just grow three times bigger. "I want to show you something."

-

"You wanted to show me the photo lab?"

Harry rolls his eyes at him.

After he handed in his project, Harry couldn't help dragging Zayn along with him to another building on campus that had come to feel like another home for him. Exhilaration was bubbling deep inside him, threatening to splosh out at any minute, and maybe it had a little something to do with Zayn's painting.

"No, wise guy. Come on." Harry wraps his fingers around Zayn's wrist and tugs him over to his assigned computer. He gestures for him to take a seat before following suit.

"Then what's up, babe?"

Harry doesn't respond immediately. He elevates a hand to cover Zayn's eyes as he types in his login information. The latter rolls his eyes in turn. "Do you remember the day we met?" Harry asks tentatively, unable to stop the hammering in his chest at the thought. He doesn't remove his hand from Zayn's face as he pulls up a file that he never intended to show anyone, Zayn least of all.

"How could I forget?" Zayn snorts, eyes still covered. "You came over and asked if you could take a picture of me because you thought that I was the most beautiful boy that you'd ever laid eyes on."

Harry laughs lightly, and his face is suddenly burning. He's glad Zayn can't see it. "And you thought that that was cheesy and that I was flirting." But the words couldn't be more true then, and they still hold truth today.

Zayn purses his lips. "As does everyone you flash that charming smile at, I'm sure," he smirks.

"Right." Harry huffs. "Well, I've never showed that picture to you."

Zayn's forehead crinkles under his hand. "Yes, you have. I saw it a while after we started hanging out."

Harry shakes his head, and the hammering intensifies. He gulps in an effort to swallow down his heart. "No, I showed you the one that I turned in," he says slowly. "But you've never seen the one that I kept for myself." He clicks one final time and lets his hand fall.

Zayn blinks ploddingly to get his eyes to refocus, and when they do, Harry'd like to believe he hears Zayn release a shaky breath like he had done when he first laid eyes on his painting. "You kept this for yourself?"

Zayn was unlike anyone Harry had ever met. He thought of him as a walking juxtaposition. Sure, he was beyond beautiful and appeared to be unreal, but that wasn't what drew Harry in. There was something burning inside him, a great fire maybe. Harry could tell from the moment he saw him, but Zayn still managed to give him chills whenever he so much as glanced in his direction, and when he looked, it was like he was seeing everything inside Harry, but also nothing at all. It was unsettling, but Harry couldn't get enough. He could never quite understand how Zayn, a complete stranger's, seemingly cool exterior could intimidate him, but be a warm, comforting presence at the same time, so he started a conversation with him in an endeavour to get some clarity.

He took the seat next to him in their lecture hall just days after seeing him for the first time and got straight to the point, saying the first thing that came to mind when Zayn unintentionally batted those thick, dark eyelashes at him. He hadn't meant for any of those words to escape. He hadn't even known that he was thinking them, but he couldn't take them back, and he found himself not wanting to, either way. He wanted a picture of this boy. He wanted something tangible that he could cling to in remembrance of this moment that for some reason he felt he didn't deserve.

Zayn was uncomfortable. He'd probably never done anything like this before, especially for a total stranger, so Harry tried his best to put him at ease. He chatted with him, asked him about himself, and in turn, told Zayn a few facts about him. It worked. He got a few good shots in, some he knew would be perfect for the project he was supposed be working on, but he didn't get the one he'd initially been hoping for. It was alright though. He was fine with it, on the verge of giving up actually. These were more than enough.

Or, that was the thought process he'd been going through when he unthinkingly let a dumb joke slip that surprisingly had Zayn tearing up in laughter, head tilted back, near-perfect teeth on display with his tongue poking out, and Harry got it. He got the image, and his heart swelled as he stared down at it on his camera. If you asked him today to repeat what he'd said that was apparently so funny, he's sure he wouldn't be able to, because really, all that mattered was the happiness that he felt fill him succeeding the joke.

Looking down at it then and looking at it now is the same. The picture is special to him, and it forever will be. It lights him up inside, gives him a serenity that he never knew he could possess before Zayn entered his life. Looking at it creates a warmth in his soul, one that fills him with love and keeps a fire burning in his eyes, not unlike the one he still feels aflame within Zayn.

Harry nods even though Zayn's attention is fixated on the screen. "It's my favorite photo of you," he tells him honestly, daring to look his way because the real thing is even better than the photograph, and not much is. "To date."

Zayn finally turns his head to gaze right back, and there's that warmth again, spreading throughout him tenfold. "And you say I'm mushy," he teases with a smile, but there's something soft in his eyes.

They finally part ways to head to their different classes after Harry shows Zayn a few more of his pictures that don't involve him. Zayn asked Harry if he wanted to have lunch with him since he didn't have to go to the art lab today, but Harry had to politely decline, giving the excuse that he was already meeting Nick for lunch, which isn't too far from the truth because he is, he's just going to be helping Liv, Liam, and Louis set up for the party immediately after.

He arrives at the cafe, catches up with Nick on how their New Years went and how the past few days following it have been, and heads upstairs to get to work.

"So did Zayn show you the painting?" Olivia asks as soon as he steps into the room. He opens his mouth to reply but shuts it a second later as she keeps firing questions at him without waiting long enough for him to answer. "Did you love it? It's magnificent, innit? Did you cry? Tell me you cried. I would have cried."

Harry takes a moment to roll all the questions over in his head. "Yes, Zayn did show his painting to me," he informs her, rolling his sleeves up. "I _really_ love it. That's not even a question. It is spectacularly amazing, and no, I can't say that I did cry. Why would I?"

"Because he painted _you_ ," Olivia states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, gesturing wildly at him. "Doesn't that make you feel good?"

Louis smirks, popping up seemingly out of nowhere beside him. "Yeah, Harry. Doesn't that make you feel good?" He eyes Harry smugly, resting his chin on the broom in his hand.

Harry fixes him a flat stare but otherwise doesn't acknowledge him. "It does, but I'm not sure why I would cry about it. If I did, it would be in a cool way, of course, but I didn't."

"Seriously?" Olivia questions incredulously. "Because I know that if the person I was secretly-" Louis suddenly starts coughing loudly, like unbelievably loudly, and Harry would be perturbed if he didn't see Olivia's eyes immediately widen. He squints, and she quickly plasters on a wide smile. "-hoping would paint me for his project did, I'd tear up a bit. Wouldn't you, Liam?" She swiftly turns to look at him for help.

Harry doesn't give Liam a chance to reply. His eyebrows knit. "I never said I wanted Zayn to paint me."

Olivia giggles hysterically, and Harry briefly wonders if she's already gotten to the alcohol or if it's something else entirely. "Which is why I said secretly, silly. Didn't you hear? Means I figured it out." She runs a hand through her hair and shakes it out before bringing her hands together for a reverberative clap. "Shall we start then?"

Harry's not sure that he wants to, but she's already off, zooming to the furthest corner of the room to hang decorations there. He knows there's something up with her, so he promptly whirls on Louis, who, along with his boyfriend and Niall, has been spending more time with her than he has lately. Louis stares back at Harry a bit too innocently.

"What does Olivia know?"

Louis tsks. "I'm afraid I can't answer that, but given how brilliant she is, I suppose it's quite a lot."

" _Louis_."

He sighs heavily, like this is taking up all of his strength but relents. Harry's grateful he's giving in so easily today. "Piss off. I haven't told her shit about your feelings for Zayn if that's what you're worried about."

Harry glances over to where Olivia and Liam are pumping balloons, and she looks so happy and normal that he almost believes him straight away. She wouldn't appear that way if she knew about his feelings, would she? She would be crushed to find out that her best friend was longing for her boyfriend. He's convinced, but he still has to ask, "Are you sure?" She was acting strangely a minute ago, even for her.

Louis's watching him so carefully, he struggles not to squirm. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"You know I can't do that."

His roommate breaks into a devilish grin and lifts a hand up to affectionately pat Harry's shoulder. "Then I guess you'll just have to trust me."

Harry would literally rather do anything else.

-

He arrives at the party exactly the time Olivia asked him to because he would have been fashionably late to show that he was insouciant about the whole celebrating the day Zayn was born thing if he didn't think that that would be impolite.

"Hazza, you're here," Olivia greets him at the door with a kiss to his cheek. She pulls away from him, smiling brightly, keeping a hold on both his hands. "Wow, loser. You clean up well. You trying to pull someone tonight?" She swings them, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively at him.

He most certainly is not. He'd dressed down specifically for the reason that the only person that he wants has been pulled already, but he can't tell her that, now can he?

"A gentleman never tells," he responds vaguely, trying for an air of mystery. He hauls her along with him over to the refreshments table. "You look stunning, and everything looks great, love," he tells her, seeing that's she's gotten her boyfriend's favorite foods. She always has to do everything so perfectly. Then, more casually, "Zayn here yet?" He can't help but ask. He's nearly certain that he's not, because if he were, he and Olivia would most likely be hanging onto each other right now, and he's nowhere in sight.

"He and Niall are on their way. I told him to dress formally because we're all going out to dinner to celebrate his birthday at a fancy restaurant, but we're meeting up here first so that we can head over there together," she explains. "I half actually wanted to do that at first, but he and I do that all the time, and this occasion is special, so I just hope he likes everything I pulled together." She wrings her hands nervously, scrutinizing everything in the room. A worried look is plastered on her face, and Harry is tempted to smooth out her furrowed brow.

"Hey, this is great what you're doing for him." He wraps his arm around her shoulder. She's always been so thoughtful like this, and it's one of the things he loves most about her. He's not sure Zayn'll be crazy about the party itself, but it's the thought that counts. "He's lucky to have you, Liv, really. You're amazing, and this is almost as amazing as you are."

"Ah, you'd do the same for him if you were in my shoes." She dismisses him, having never been able to take a compliment. "But thank you, Hazza. Oh, Doniya and Waliyha just walked in. Let's go say hi."

She takes his hand again and pulls him along to where Zayn's sisters are standing. They greet him excitedly with large hugs and even kisses, and Harry is slightly astonished given he'd only met them the one time Zayn had taken Harry back home, but he guesses that their family is just affectionate like that. Yeah, that's it. They have to be if Zayn is any indication.

They ask him about what he's been up to and how he's been doing, and they seem as interested in him as they are in Olivia. It warms his heart.

"Zayn goes on about you all the time," Waliyha whispers to him conspiratorially while Doniya and Liv are engrossed in their own conversation. "Sometimes I forget it isn't you he's dating."

She probably doesn't mean anything by it, but the words replay in his mind over and over for the rest of the night.

"What's all this?"

The four of them turn to the entrance where Zayn is standing with Niall, both equally smartly dressed. Inside, Harry's chest goes wild.

"Oh, right. Surprise!" Niall amicably claps Zayn on the back before bringing him in for a bear hug. "I love you, man. Happy birthday."

"Niall!" Olivia bellows, eyes alight. "Why didn't you tell me you guys were downstairs?"

Niall shrugs. "Didn't think I had to. I told you we were on our way," he reminds her. "Anyway, have a good one, mate. I'm going to the bar." He squeezes Zayn one last time before flashing his sunlight smile at everyone gathered near the door and departing.

Olivia sighs, all the irritation dissipating out of her when her eyes land on Zayn. "The surprise was supposed to be a lot more spectacular than that, but happy birthday, baby." She goes over to him and kisses his cheek. "I hope you're not too disappointed that we're not actually going out to eat."

"No." Zayn shakes his head. "No, this is better than anything I expected. I love it, Liv. Thank you, babe." He embraces her and kisses the top of her head.

"Well, you better love it." Doniya walks up to him with her hands on her hips, and Zayn's smile only grows. "We came all the way here just for you."

Zayn pulls both his sisters in, and Harry watches as they coddle and coo over him and tease and poke fun at him all in the same breath. It makes him want to call Gemma.

"Stop the traffic! The life of the party- and Liam- is finally here. Now the fun can really start." They all round to see Louis there with his arms wide open. He grins at Zayn. "Come here, you gorgeous man, you." Zayn happily goes, and Louis gives him a smack of the lips on his neck. "Happy birthday, buddy."

Zayn beams wide at him. "Thanks, Lou."

Liam is up next. "Cheers to ya, mate," Harry hears him whisper into Zayn's hair when they embrace. They'd always had more of a softer bond.

"Thanks, Li." He smiles at him before turning to Harry who, unlike the others, doesn't nuzzle him right away. "Hey, H. You were in on this too?"

"Guilty as charged," he breathes, bringing Zayn in for a small hug. He backs away way sooner than he'd like to. "I'm going to join Niall at the bar," he forces himself to say with a tight smile. "Happy birthday, Z."

Don't get him wrong, he'd love to stay and talk with Zayn, like they'd done earlier, like they'd been doing regularly for the past few days, like he wants to do for as long as Zayn'll let him, but this is his night that _Olivia_ planned for him, and he's not going to ruin it or get in the way.

Or at least that's what he tells himself before he has a couple drinks in him.

The night goes on, and all the partygoers engage in the fun activities Liv organized for them. They drink and laugh and dance and eat and play games and drink some more, and at some point, Harry even finds himself in the seat beside Zayn. He plops down next to him and noses his face against Zayn's shoulder, and Zayn almost automatically wraps his arm around him.

"Hey, cutie," he twinkles, and it's all Harry wants to see for the rest of his life. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I am," Harry replies with an even bigger smile, and not just because Zayn called him cute. He hiccups then looks up at Zayn, at his strawberry pink lips and golden eyes that he always gets lost inside. "What about you?"

Zayn looks down at him, still smiling. "Can't complain."

"Why are you over here by yourself then?" Someone as pretty and great as Zayn should never have to be by themself. Well, unless they want to be.

"'m just chilling," Zayn tells him, running his fingers smoothly through Harry's curls. He's glad he took the time to comb it before coming here. "Liv went to get us some drinks."

"Oh, okay." Harry nods. "Dance with me," he blurts before he can stop himself. He blinks. "Sorry. If- if you want to, that is," he clarifies. "I mean, I know you don't really, um, really like to dance, but it's your birthday, and we should be celebrating and having fun, and I think dancing with me would be fun for you. Uh, not that you don't look like you're having fun, but you are sitting here alone, and who knows when Liv will get back. I mean, the drinks are all the way over-"

"I'd love to, Harry." Zayn cuts him off with a short laugh.

"What, really?"

"Really really," Zayn promises, taking his hand and yanking him up. He leads Harry over to the makeshift dance floor, not once releasing his hand. He takes the other, pressing their bodies so close together that Harry can't tell where his heartbeat ends and Zayn's begins.

"You look very pretty tonight," he says without thinking too much about it. His mind is practically blank due to the mixture of all the vodka and the proximity.

"Well, I'm _pretty_ sure you're drunk, but you look really good yourself. Although," he reaches over and does one button up on Harry's shirt. "Careful, some of us might not know how to handle so much of your chest being exposed like this."

Harry nictates. "Who's us?"

Zayn only smirks. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

-

Harry realizes that Zayn's missing after he's grown tired of watching Niall and Louis compete in a ridiculously intense game of beer pong. Olivia says that she hasn't seen him in a while, and Harry volunteers to go look for him. (Only because that's the helpful thing to do, not because of anything else.)

He goes in search and finds him out on the balcony. He's leaning on the railing, staring up at the moon, and a storm is whirling inside of him. Harry can feel it. The sight of him is chaotic yet winsome- Harry wishes he'd brought his camera with him in an effort to try and capture the moment.

"Hey again," he speaks up hesitantly, his words a bit slurred. He was never one for silence. His mind was always overflowing with everything he wanted to say and couldn't say that words often splurged out of him without him having to think twice about it, but if Zayn needed quiet now, he'd give it to him instantly.

"Hey," Zayn greets him. Harry almost doesn't catch it.

He waits a minute before speaking again, ensuring to choose his words carefully. "Did it become a little too much for you?"

"Yeah, just needed a little break to myself." Zayn isn't looking at him, but after what he'd revealed to him not too long ago on New Years, it's more than enough for Harry that he's answering.

"Does that mean you want me to go?"

"Do you want to go?" He definitely doesn't, but really, he'd do anything for Zayn. He'd leave if that's what he really wants. Hell, he'd probably walk through fire for him if he asked him to. Harry opens his mouth to respond. "No, don't answer that. I don't want you to go, and it's my birthday, kind of, so you should give me what I want, right?"

Harry chuckles and relaxes as some of the tension eases. "I guess I should." He goes over to stand beside Zayn and bumps his shoulder with his own. "Sure everything's alright?" If it isn't, I'll do my best to make it better.

Zayn takes a while to rejoin again. "It's like everything is but isn't at the same time, you know?" He smiles wryly, finally lifting his gaze to Harry's.

His answer is cryptic, and Harry nods even though he doesn't completely understand what Zayn means, but he guesses that he can relate to it on some level, because here he is, standing under the moonlight with Zayn, someone who's been on his mind more than ever lately, someone whom he absolutely adores. He's standing only a few inches away from him, and Harry wouldn't want to be anywhere else, not even in the room down the hall that's filled with people that would happily make him the center of their attention. He just wants to be right here. That's all he wants, and he doesn't need Zayn to say that he loves him or anything like that. He doesn't need Zayn to say that he's Harry's. He doesn't need Zayn to say anything. He just needs him to be standing right here next to him, and he is, and it's enough but it isn't simultaneously, and his heart aches because of it.

"So can I ask you something?" He starts, shaking away his thoughts.

Zayn seems grateful for the subject change, but the light in his eyes is still dim. "'Course."

"Were you really surprised tonight?"

Zayn chuckles, and Harry's stomach flips. He's happy to see him smiling again. "Surprised that Olivia didn't actually just want to go out for dinner after her being MIA for practically the whole week leading up to my birthday? Yeah, I was."

Harry laughs at the way he says it. Put like that, the whole ordeal does seem a bit sus. "When did you figure it out?"

"When she freaked out over the fact that I was alone working on my project and sent you to the rescue instead of just coming herself," he says with a shrug. "That's when I figured something was up anyway. It wasn't too hard to piece together the details after that."

"You're brilliant." Harry doesn't know where that came from. He sets his drink down. Maybe he's had too much.

Zayn laughs. "I'd hardly call that brilliant, Haz."

 _But_ _you_ _are_ , he doesn't say. I've always thought so, even before I knew you. Instead, "I hope you know that I didn't only come over that day because she asked me to."

Zayn glances over at him. "Why did you then?"

"Because I love spending time with you." He knew that it was the alcohol talking again because even though words spoken tonight could never be more true, he never would have said that so boldly if he was completely sober.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he breathes.

"I love spending time with you too, and I'm glad you're here, Harry. Not just at the party, even though if someone had asked me a couple months ago if I thought you'd be here celebrating my birthday with me, I would have said no," Harry's heart constricts painfully. "But just like, here. I'm glad you're here. Right now. With me."

Harry isn't sure what comes over him, but suddenly his hand is at the base of Zayn's neck, and he finds himself edging closer. Time stands still as green eyes meet brown, milky skin meets golden, pulsating heart meets another. Surprise flicks through Zayn's eyes, but he doesn't pull away, and that pushes Harry even further. "You really shouldn't say things like that to me."

Zayn's brow furrows, and Harry can tell that he's holding on with bated breath. He's doing the same. "Why not?"

"God, you don't know what you do to me," he whispers, not directly answering the question. He doesn't know what he's doing, but he knows that he should back away. Every organ in his body tells him to, but he can really only hear one. It pounds in his ears, and it's keeping him where he is. He rests his forehead on Zayn's and tilts his head ever so slightly. He goes in for it, heartbeat thundering. He's really going to do it. He's going to-

"Are you going to kiss me?"

Harry freezes. The moment is lost. "What? No! ...What makes you say that?"

"Um." Zayn gestures to the space between them, or the lack thereof.

"Fuck." Harry jolts back. It's like his senses all come flying back to him. "I'm sorry. Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to- I-" He splutters. "I need to go."

"Go?" Zayn echoes, looking like the epitome of confusion.

"Yes." Harry nods firmly, taking another step back. "I need to go. I'm sorry. Like I said, I love spending time with you, more than I ever have anyone else, and this was really nice, and I want to stay, but I can't. I'm sorry, Zayn." He shakes his head and steps back some more. They need as much distance between them as possible right now.

Zayn reaches out for him, but Harry gives him a pained expression because he _can't_ no matter how much he wants to. He needs to leave.

"Um, am I interrupting something?"

Harry starts. Olivia is standing at the door of the balcony. He didn't even hear it open. She looks between the two, and Harry hopes desperately that she's just arrived and didn't see anything. He couldn't take it if she did.

"No," he answers before Zayn can. "We were just chatting."

"Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrows raised. "You guys seem a bit tense. Don't worry, I can leave in a minute." She gestures with her thumb back to the party. "I just wanted to talk to Zayn alone real quick."

"No need." Harry motions for her to stop. Please let everything stop. "I was just heading home."

"What, why?" She steps further onto the balcony, and this time she's the one reaching out for him. It doesn't make him feel much better. "It's still pretty early. Stay a while longer. The night will only get better from here, I promise."

Her words only make his heart hurt more. "Sorry, Liv, but my mind's made up. It was a great party. Thank you for inviting me." He walks over and kisses her cheek before she can protest. He wills himself to look back, and he nearly breaks down. "Happy birthday, Zayn. Goodnight."

-

Harry shuts the door to his flat with a sigh. He doesn't know what he was thinking.

Scratch that. He knows that he wasn't thinking. Why else would he come so close to kissing his best friend's boyfriend? He didn't think it was possible to hate himself more.

He throws his jacket to the ground, too melancholically tired to even think about putting it in the right place. Everything hurts, and he wants to disappear forever.

He's heading to his bedroom to watch films about people who are lucky enough to have actually found love because he's a masochist, when an urgent knock sounds at the door, causing him to immediately groan. Harry is used to it, of course, but after the night he had, he really isn’t sure why Louis had to forget his key on today of all days, and didn’t he say he was staying at Liam's tonight? He’s probably just here for some clothes.

When he pulls it open, however, his blue-eyed and bushy tailed roommate is not the one waiting for him. His heart leaps for joy and thumps in pain concurrently. He really has to get that looked at.

"Zayn?"

"We broke up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	11. to be loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words are said, tears are shed, and things get pretty intense (not really).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Here’s your present in the form of a new chapter ;) Hope you enjoy x

The words cause a myriad of emotions to surge through him. Harry's heart rate picks up. He's almost certain that he's stopped breathing, and his head is spinning. He can't decipher if that's just a result of all the alcohol he consumed at the party, or the fact that Zayn is standing only a few feet away from him right now and just uttered those words, but eventually, he manages to choke out a "What?"

Zayn is here, in the flesh, in his doorway, and his eyes are red, and his hair is tousled, appearing as if his fingers have run through it several times, and Harry nearly breaks down for the second time this night. Even disheveled, in the shitty light of his hallway, Harry can't help but think that he's never seen anyone more beautiful, but he's still out of reach. He always will be.

"We broke up, Harry," Zayn repeats, his voice a low mumble.

Harry hears the words, but they don't quite register in his mind, or maybe he's just shit at comprehending. "I'm sorry, what? Why? When? _What_?"

Zayn sighs, twisting his ear. "Just a few minutes ago. Can I come in?"

"No."

He raises a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow. "No?"

Harry shakes his head. "I mean, yes. Of course you can," he steps aside to let him through, "but no. No no no. Don't tell me you broke up with her because I almost kissed you?"

Zayn's eyes flit across the room, probably because he's only been here the handful of times Louis forced Harry to host game night at their place, and he's probably never really had the chance to take a good gander at the room given he's always had Olivia on his chest and in his arms to distract him, before turning back to Harry. He shakes his head too. "Harry, I didn't-"

"Tell me you didn't do that," he demands, not letting him finish. He's not sure he's ready for the answer.

"I'm try-"

"Oh God," he cries, flinging a hand up to his forehead in realization. The action only causes his headache to intensify. "She's going to kill me when she finds out. She's going to kill _you_ when she finds out. She's going to kill both of us, so thanks a lot, Zayn." He throws both his arms up in exasperation. "I have to go see her." He yanks on a curl, moving away from Zayn to scrabble about for his jacket where he'd cast it to the floor. "I have to see how she's doing. I can't believe you did this. How could you do this? And on the night she threw you a surprise party?"

Zayn groans, stuffing both his hands in his coat pockets on a roll of his eyes. "Harry, if you'd just-"

"She's probably heartbroken." Harry stops in his tracks, tightening his grip on his jacket as he bites down on his bottom lip, gnawing at it. "Oh, I'm a horrible best friend, probably the fucking worst in history. How could I fall for my best friend's boyfriend?" He whispers, feeling tears brim in his eyes. "And then try to kiss him on top of that? I think I need to throw up." He's not even kidding. He really does feel poorly.

"Wait a minute." Zayn steps forward, his brow creasing. "How could you what?"

Harry takes a deep breath, shrugging his jacket on. "Now's really not the time, Zayn. I'm sorry, but right now, I have to head to the store to get some chocolate and ice cream and possibly a bulletproof vest."

Zayn holds his arms out in front of him as he blocks the exit. "Harry, would you stop it?"

"No, I have to go," he stubbornly insists, trying to move past him.

"Can't we just talk for one minute?"

Harry sighs, placing both his hands on Zayn's shoulders. "We can talk later, Zayn, but Olivia really needs me right now."

"She's fine. Could you just-"

"How do you know that?" He practically explodes, tossing his arms up again. He wants to scream because he's been holding everything in for so long now, and he can't take it anymore. "She just got dumped by her boyfriend of one year after she went all out and spent so much time planning this huge surprise for him, what, because her best friend almost kissed him? Because he thinks he has a little crush on said best friend? Because he thinks that maybe he has feelings for him? Because-"

"Harry, I'm in love with you!" It sounds like the words are ripped from out of him, and the Earth abruptly ceases spinning. Zayn exhales, finally looking relieved for the first time since he arrived, but Harry is horrified. "There, I said it."

"What?" That word seems to be a favorite of his. Take a shot every time he says it.

"I'm in love with you, Harry," Zayn says more quietly, and it's everything Harry's ever wanted to hear but also words that he wishes Zayn would swallow back up.

He backpedals, shaking his head so profusely it hurts. "N-No. No. You aren't."

This time Zayn is the one demanding, "What?"

"You're not in love with me, Zayn," Harry suspires, running a hand down his face. He's physically and emotionally too tired for this. "And even if you are, which you're not, you can't be."

"Excuse me?" Zayn bellows. "I'm not in love with you? _You're_ telling _me_ that I'm not in love with you?" He asks painfully slowly.

"Yes," Harry breathes out. "You're just confused because of all the time we've been spending together with the week at the cabin, and New Years, and me helping you out with your project and all, and because it was like we were making up for lost time," he explains, "and I figured that you might think that you have feelings for me, but you don't because you love _her_ , and that's fine because I'll talk to her, and I'm sure that she'll take you back as long as you didn't mention any of this loving me nonsense, and we don't have to tell her that you said it. We can act like you never did, and-"

"Bullshit." Zayn cuts him off gruffly. "You're joking, right? Or are you really trying to tell me how _I_ feel right now?"

"No, I wouldn't-

"But you are," he finishes for Harry.

Harry who's starting to feel helpless and delirious, his breath coming out heavy and ragged. "Because how could I not?" He yells before he can help himself. "What do you want me to say, Zayn? How can you possibly expect me to believe that you're in love with me when you've been dating my best friend for almost a year now?" The tears in his eyes threaten to escape, but he won't let them, not right now. "It's always been her, Zayn, and why not? She's fucking amazing! She's one of the best persons I've ever met, if not the best. I don't blame you for falling for her. How- how could I? I just- I just wish that you'd given me a little notice or something back then, you know? I mean, I hadn't even known that you were interested in her until I came back to the news that the two of you were dating. Do you know how hard that time was for me? And I'm not going let Olivia go through the same thing. I'm not going to let her see you with someone else and wish that she were with you instead."

Zayn shakes his head at that, crossing his arms, his face still set, but Harry can see water pooling in his brown eyes as well. "This isn't like that, and you know it. You could've talked to me about how you felt, Harry. She did. Why couldn't you?"

"Because I'm not her, Zayn!" He shouts, his voice cracking, his throat constricting. "It may have been easy for her, but it was far from it for me. I'm not her. Isn't it obvious? That's why you chose Olivia, not me!"

"You wouldn't let me choose you!" Zayn clamours back. "Of course you wouldn't have known that I was interested in her back then, because I was interested in _you_ , you dumbass."

Harry scoffs, letting out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, right, and the rumors that Louis and I were fucking around were true too. At least try to make your lie believable, Zayn."

Zayn scoffs, as well, shaking his head and uncrossing his arms. "Harry, you bloody idiot, I've loved you since the year that we met. When are you going to open your eyes and see that?"

Harry feels like a bucket of ice water just poured down on him. He doesn't immediately say anything. He swallows, not sure how to respond. "Zayn, come on. Quit messing-"

"Harry Styles, I have loved you since I was eighteen, long before we both thought the same thing," Zayn reveals, effectively shutting him the hell up. "It's _you_. It's always been you, okay? Not Olivia, not anyone else. It's you, and I thought that you knew! I thought that you could see how much I cared, how much I wanted you. I never let anyone in as much as I did you! I let you see every single little part of me, even the parts that I don't like, and I was terrified when I realized what I was doing but only because I _wasn't_ , and I'm fucking scared of everything! I used to flirt with you like crazy, Harry! I was always hugging and kissing you. I even asked you out a few times, hoping that you'd get a fucking clue, but you were always so ridiculously oblivious that it hurt, but I didn't care because I still had you in my life, and I loved you. Yeah, I went out with Olivia, but only because I figured that it was time that I got over you, and she was always so lovely, so I thought that I'd give it a chance, and dating her turned out to be one of the best experiences I've ever been through. I loved her. I still do, so fucking much, but there was always something missing because I was so madly in love with you, and I still am, Harry." Zayn huffs, shaking his head sadly. "Problem is you were blind back then, and you still are too."

Before Harry can stop them, his lips are colliding with Zayn's, and it's rough and graceless, and he thinks that their teeth knock against each other, but it's fine because this is great, and he's kissing Zayn. Harry's finally kissing his brown-eyed boy, his hands on his waist, gripping at the coat-clad skin there as he pulls him so close he can't tell which limbs belong to who. Zayn tenses at first, only hesitating for a second before Harry feels his body loosen up as his arms reach up to grasp at his shoulders, firmly pressing his lips to his and tugging him in closer and closer for a fiery, demanding, and passionate kiss.

His lips are soft and warm and though chapped, they feel better than Harry ever imagined they would. His senses leave him once more and he can no longer think straight. He wants to pull away. He knows that he should, because this is wrong, and they shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't be more elated that they are. His hands work their way around Zayn's body, feeling each crevasse, each line along his perfect build.

Harry smiles, his heart fluttering as Zayn clasps his hands on either side of his face, and gently pushes him against the door, his lips detaching themselves from Harry's to move down to his neck.

He's high on the kiss, high on the boy kissing him, high on this feeling as his mind chants _Zayn_ _Zayn_ _Zayn_ and nothing else. Their lips meet once more, and Harry doesn't know how he'd went so long without it. Zayn's lips are the flavor of strawberries, and they feel like the end of June, but it all ends too quickly.

Zayn's the one who pulls away first, his breath shaky and shallow, his forehead still resting on Harry's. Both their eyes flicker open, leaving them standing there, staring at each other deeply. No words are spoken, but thousands of them are communicated.

Zayn moves his head from side to side and sighs. "Harry, don't do this."

"Zayn."

He presses his hands to Harry's cheeks. "I want you to _truly_ see and understand how gone I am for you, how gone I've always been. Let me know when you do, yeah?"

And then he's gone.

-

Harry breaks down the second Zayn leaves. The tears finally flow out of him, and they aren't stopping, no matter what he does. He doesn't even bother wiping them away, knowing that it's no use. They just keep on coming, because Zayn said everything he's ever wanted to hear and more, but Harry didn't want it to be like this. He didn't want it to be at the expense of his best friend's heart.

He couldn't bring himself to go check on Olivia, as much as he'd initially wanted to. Rather, hands shaking, he pulls his phone out, his movie marathon long forgotten. His thumb hovers over her contact, but after a few minutes of inner debating, he decides not go through with it. His self-loathing increases as he calls someone he knows will make him feel better instead.

Straining to keep his voice steady, he excitedly greets her, guessing that she's probably getting ready for bed now given what time it is where she is. He accuses her of being an old lady, telling her that it's still early, and he jokes around with her and she makes him laugh, but the heaviness in his heart doesn't let up.

"Alright, alright," she says around a chuckle. "Now why did you really call? And don't give me that ‘I just wanted to talk to you’ bullshit. I know you better than that."

"I wasn't going to," he protests, fighting a smile as he adds, "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"That's even worse," she laughs disbelievingly. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

His smile falls, and he remembers that the ache in his chest is there. "Gems..." He doesn't think that he could if he tried.

"Right, so that's a no,” she sighs. "Well, I know that you'll open up to me when you're ready, Hazza, and that's all that I can really hope for. Whatever it is, it won't always suck this much, love, I promise," she assures him, and that doesn't make him feel much better because there’s no way that she could know that for sure, but at the same, it does. Just because it's her. "And you know that I’m always here for you? Whenever you need me?”

”Of course I do.” That’s not even a question.

”Good. Now, what do you want to talk about, sunshine? I’m all ears."

They chat for the rest of the night, about school and work and Gemma's holiday and everything in between, excluding Zayn, up until Harry realizes that his sister's fast asleep on the other end of the call. More than likely, she was exhausted, but she'd done her best to stay awake just for him. She knew he needed the distraction.

He beams fondly to himself, bidding her a goodnight, adding in a 'sweet dreams, Gems' before hanging up. He absently wishes that he was with her right now and not here, in the place that his dreams and worst nightmare came to life in one, but it's okay, because this was exactly what he needed. Or at least, as close to it as he could get on such short notice.

His conversation with her almost made him completely forget about everything that happened with Zayn tonight.

Keep in mind, he said _almost_.

-

The following day isn't much better. Harry wakes feeling like a truck was dumped on his head. His eyes are puffy, and he spends a good portion of the morning on the bathroom floor. He's never drinking again. (That's not true, but he'll pretend for a second that it is.)

Eventually, he hauls his ass off the floor and drags himself to the sink where he takes two aspirin tablets before hopping into the shower, deciding that he's going to force himself to go for a run.

The warm water helps release some of the tension in his body, and he also likes it because it blends in with the tears running down his face.

After his shower, he heads to his bedroom to change and pulls a beanie on because he doesn't feel like dealing with his hair. When he exits it en route to the living room, his heart nearly stops.

"There you are. I was wondering when you'd be finished," she greets him dryly, one eyebrow raised in an unimpressed fashion as she sits upright on his couch.

Her tone makes his skin crawl. He's never had her fix him that look before either. He'd seen her direct it at other people though, and he never thought he'd be on the receiving end of it. This is exactly what he was afraid of. "Liv-"

"What the hell did you do to him, Harry?" She cuts him off sharply.

Okay, that isn't exactly what he was expecting. He vaguely feels like he's had this conversation before, only previously it was over the phone wasn't it?

Her demeanor alone makes him want to cower and back away, but he stands his ground, only slightly regretting having given her a key to his flat. "Okay, firstly, what are you doing here, and second, what are you on about?"

"Don't give me that shit." Olivia nearly glares, and maybe standing his ground wasn't such a good idea. "Zayn. What'd you do to him? He's broken now, a complete mess."

Harry's sure she's exaggerating, but "What- what do you mean by that?" He asks, lifting a hand up to run his fingers through his hair, only to meet the fabric of his hat instead. He yanks it off, and Olivia stands, folding her arms across her chest as she begins to circle him slowly, making him gulp.

"I was just over there to see him, thought I'd see how things went with you two, figured he'd be there given he'd have had plenty of time to get back to his place and shower," she starts, stroking her chin, "but instead of me hearing the juicy details about his night with you, I hear that you turned him down instead." She stops in front of him, her eyes wild. "You broke his heart, Harry! What the hell is that? I thought you were in love with him."

Harry feels his whole world come crashing down. She wasn't- she isn't- she's not supposed to know. Did Zayn say something? Harry told him not to tell her. Olivia shouldn't know just how horrible he truly is. It's selfish, but he doesn't think that he could handle it if she walked out of his life. He stumbles back, shaking his head. "I'm not- I'm not in love with-"

"Ugh, Harry. Cut the crap." She gives him a desperate look. "I've known you all my life. I _know_ that you're in love with him. Hell, I feel like I've always known." She throws her hands up dramatically before pausing. "... Also, Louis's not very good at keeping secrets."

"What?" He screeches now. He'll kill him. Louis lied to him. He reassured him that Liv-

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding... Sort of." She sighs, and it's like all her anger evaporates. "I may have interrogated the boys a bit, but they didn't tell me anything that I didn't already know, I promise. Louis seemed to have the most insight, however, so I figured." She gives a half shrug. "You only told him, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me?"

The stabbing in Harry's chest returns at her words. "Liv," he whispers, stepping closer, "how could I?"

"It would have been fine," she tells him, treading back despite her statement. "I would've backed off. I'd do anything for you, Hazza." Deep down, he knows that she would have, but he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't ask her to do that. "When did you know?"

Harry doesn't want to talk about this. He never wants to have to talk about this, with her least of all, but she's looking at him agog with inquisitive eyes, and he can't bring himself to disappoint her any more than he already has. "It was the weekend you asked him out," he divulges. "I was away for my birthday, remember? And when I came back..."

"Zayn and I were already dating," she finishes, stepping back further and wrapping her arms around herself. She shakes her head before pacing forward again, putting a hand on his arm. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. What shit timing. That must have been awful for you." It was, but he doesn't tell her that. "That explains why you ditched us for weeks. Fuck, Harry, I can't tell you how sorry I am."

His eyebrows pull together. "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who's messed up," he mutters.

Her eyes dilate with concern. "Is that what you think? Oh God, this is like last night with Zayn all over again." She tentatively raises her hand and places it on his cheek. "Harry, babe, I'm not mad at you. Not for falling in love with someone. Not for something that you can't control. You are in no way messed up. You have in no way messed up, and like I said, I feel like I've always known. I'd always thought that you had a little crush on him and vice versa, but when I'd talked to Zayn, he'd told me that there was nothing going on between you two, and I didn't quite believe him because I'd watched you both for so long.

I'd seen how you interacted, like you'd known each other your whole lives. Which, now that I think about it, isn't that special since you're like that with the other boys too, but still. I'd seen how you and Zayn always brought the best out of each other, even on your worst days. I'd seen how you were always like sort of aware of the other's presence, even if you weren't making it known, how you both just always kind of fell into place, into a comfortable rhythm where you could coexist. I'd seen how different you both were but how you completed each other and made the other person even more wonderful than they already were.

I'd seen all that and more, but I was selfish, and I thought- I don't know, I thought that maybe I was wrong because you'd never told me, H, and we tell each other everything," she's tearing up at this point, and Harry knows that he isn't doing much better, "but- but I'd seen the way that you looked at him then, and I've seen the way that you look at him now, like he made your whole world and everything in it, and- and I know that he feels exactly the same. He loves you too, Harry. I mean, I've seen the way that he looks at _you_ , and I know that it's love because that's the way that Liam and Louis look at each other. That's the way that Niall looks at food," she laughs slightly, "and that isn't the way that he looks at me. He never did."

Harry's already shaking his head furiously because no, why is she thinking like this? How could she be thinking like this? How long has she been thinking like this? "Liv-"

"You should talk to him," she gently interrupts, giving his arm a squeeze. She wipes a runaway tear of his away with the pad of her thumb.

"Olivia. Olivia, I can't do that to you."

"Me?" She scoffs, dropping both her hands. "Babe, I'm the one who broke up with him."

Everything starts spinning, and Harry doesn't know how to get it to stop. All the colors around him blur together, and he feels lightheaded. "You what? Why would you-"

-

"You should be with _him_ , Zayn. He makes you happy, and I know that I do too, but not like he does. Harry- Harry can make you smile more in a single day than I could in our whole relationship. It's so easy for him to cheer you up too, even when you're in one of your moods and not even I- or Niall- Niall!- who's like the light of the fucking world- can draw you out."

"That's not true," Zayn begins to protest, his eyes already wet with tears.

"It is," Olivia says softly with a small smile. Hers aren't much drier. "And it's okay. Really, it is. You two are meant to be together. I see it, and so does everyone else."

-

"Harry, how did we become friends?"

-

He's brought back to the day they met. Enter a little blonde-haired Harry playing in the neighborhood park's sandbox. Not far away from him sits a miniature Olivia with tears welling up in her eyes.

Harry didn't know who she was, and his parents had always told him not to speak to strangers, but she looked sad, and for some reason, he wanted to make her feel better.

She was wary of him at first. He figured she'd probably been thought the same lesson about strangers as he was, but she ultimately revealed that she'd misplaced her favorite toy while she was playing and had no idea where it was. Fresh tears cascaded down her face as she told him the story, and Harry felt his little heart wrench even more, so he did the only thing that he thought would help. He gave her his favorite toy as a replacement.

"Ted’s made me smile on so many days, so I want you to have him, so that you can smile again too. You can keep him forever," he told her. "Your toy was probably better," he added shyly, holding it out to her, "but I really, really like this one, and I think that he’s very nice too, and I’m really going to miss him, but I think he’ll like living with you-"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She squealed, throwing her arms around his neck, catching him completely off guard and causing them to both fall into the sand. He remembers it hurting a bit, but they’d laughed because they'd both known that they'd made a new friend that day.

He wasn't anticipating that outcome when he'd made it his mission to make her smile, but it turned out to be better than anything he'd ever expected, and if Olivia promised that they'd be best friends forever and get married one day, well, that was just a bonus.

-

"Liv, you can't seriously be comparing this to that day," Harry states incredulously. "We're a long way from the playground. The two situations are worlds apart."

"Are they?" She questions, sounding like a mad person. "Because I think that this is just like that. Harry, I want you two to be together, just like you wanted me to have Ted."

"No," he declares, stepping back again. "No, that can't be right. Ted was an inanimate object. This is a person we're talking about. This is your boyfriend. This is _Zayn_. You're- you're just saying all this right now, but I know that you'll miss him, and I know how much this must hurt. You don't need to do this for me. I don't want you to feel like you have to repay me or some shit. It was just a toy, Liv."

She shakes her head. "No, it wasn't. That gesture meant so much to me, even as a little girl, and you know that I still have him in my room at my flat. Harry, I know that I don't have to repay you. That's not what this is. I'm well aware that I don't have to do this, but may I remind you that I just said that I want to? Harry, listen to me." She takes his hand, leading him over to the couch.

"Of course I'll miss him, babe, but this doesn't hurt, honestly. I mean, it's weird knowing that we're done, but it's also like this huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders because it feels right, Harry. Zayn and I were great as a couple. Obviously, we were. I mean, I was one half of it, and we all know how great I am, and he's okay too, so how could we not be, and clearly I love the guy very much, but I'm not _in_ love with him, not like you are. I'm not sure I ever was, and that's not to say that I was leading him on or anything. I wasn't. I wouldn't. I was crazy about Zayn since the moment you introduced us. We've just never really had that passion, you know? The passion that you share with him, the heat. It was all just very comfortable, very vanilla, which you know happens to be my favorite flavor, and maybe that's why I stuck around so long, I don't know. Zayn was aware of all this too, I'm sure, but you know how he is. He wouldn't do a thing to break my heart."

"I wouldn't either," he's quick to say. He hopes desperately that she knows that.

"I know. I know." She clasps his hand tighter. "You'd both rather break your own before even _thinking_ about hurting mine."

Tears prick at his eyes again. "What are you saying?"

Olivia gazes down at their intertwined hands. She rubs his with her thumb. "I'm saying that Zayn and I are done and that you and him can begin." She glances up then, and there's determination in her eyes, resolve. She's serious, and Harry's a mess. He begins crying again at the thought of what she's doing.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't do it." He places his other hand on top of hers, averting his eyes. "I can't do that to you. I refuse to believe that you're willingly giving up your happiness for mine. You're an amazingly generous person, but this can't be what you really want. You're only doing this because- because this is the kind of person you are, have always been," he hiccups, "but I know that this will slowly eat away at you. It'll destroy you. Losing him hurts, Liv. I've been through it before, and I can't do that to you. I just can't," he sobs.

"Oh, baby." Olivia reaches up to rub all his tears away once more. She smiles at him encouragingly. "I'm fine. This is fine. I'm happy, I promise." She tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear before bringing him into her comforting embrace. "Now it's your turn to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, what’d you think?


	12. and to be in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Zayn make a decision, and I make more shameless 18 and Fine Line references.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very, very late, but Happy New Year guys! x  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter :)

His head bobs from side to side with each footfall as his feet pound the tarmac with all the grace of a sack of wet cement. He wheezes as his burning lungs gasp for air. His throat feels dry, and his legs numb, unsteady, and painfully sore, but he keeps on running.

-

"Where is he?" Harry bolts out of his seat, standing so quickly he gets a head rush. He drags his fingers through his hair before charging to the door to throw his jacket on. In his rush, he pulls it on the wrong way at first, but he eventually gets it right.

He pats fervently at his pockets, wild eyes surveying every inch of the floor. Keys. Where are his keys? Dammit. He's sure they're around here somewhere. Along with his jacket, he tossed them to the side as soon as he was through the door last night. He drops down to his knees and starts pushing aside this and digging underneath that because where the frick are they?

A snort coming from Olivia's general direction cuts his thoughts short. He glances back at her to find her looking over at him now, apparently amused by his sudden eagerness to get out of here and head to wherever Zayn is. "Probably well on his way to Bradford by now."

Harry's heart stops. He deflates, ceasing his actions completely. "He's... What?"

"Ah, I'm just kidding." Olivia waves her hand dismissively, hopping off the couch as well. "Though kind of not. When I left him, he was packing to head to home with his sisters. His actual birthday's tomorrow, remember?"

She says it so nonchalantly that he wants to squeeze her. "Then why didn't you lead with that?" He desperately cries.

"Harry, so help me-"

"I know, I know," he tells her, sighing. "You had to talk some sense into me first." He tugs on his bottom lip, and his eyes instantly light up as he finally spots the metallic shine of his keychain near the entrance to the kitchen. He crawls over and grabs it before triumphantly pulling himself off the floor. "And I appreciate that." He shoots her a charming smile, already feeling a little lighter now that he knows he can leave without the fear of not knowing when he'll be able to get back in. "What would I do without you?"

Olivia rolls her eyes at him, walking over to him with her arms crossed. "I assume you and Zayn would still be dancing around each other's feelings, completely ignorant to the fact that you're made for each other, but who can say, right?"

His heart thrums exuberantly at her words. Made for each other. Harry and Zayn. He shakes his head and takes both her hands in his. "Liv, I seriously can't thank you enough for this." He means it with all his heart. He'll never be able to tell her how much all this means to him, how much he appreciates all her love and constant support.

"But I'm sure you'll find a way to." She smiles and strokes his cheek. "Now go! Go to him like you would if this was the end of one those cheesy movies you like so much."

Harry nods with purpose, steeling himself. "Yeah, you're right. It's time. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it, and there's nothing that anyone or anything can do to stop me now."

"That's the spirit," she cheers him on as he turns to the door.

He takes a deep breath and positively beams. "I'm going to do it," he repeats, more to himself this time, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to do it. I'm going after him... I'm going after Zayn."

He never thought that this moment would come. To even think that his feelings would be validated one day, that all those months he'd spent longing for whom he thought was the love of his best friend's life would be worth something in the end, that he was being longed for too- he couldn't have imagined any of it.

But here he is today, standing with the chance to tell Zayn how he truly feels, like Zayn did last night. Here he is standing with the chance to use both his heart and soul to push for them to finally make a start. It's nerve-wracking to say the least, but it's also thrilling, and he's buzzing, and-

"Yeah, but seriously, Casanova, get out of here. He's probably leaving for home as we speak."

Oh. Right.

-

When he'd left his flat, Harry hadn't known exactly what his plan was, but his feet were guiding him to Zayn's building before he could even think too hard about it. At least he's getting that run in that he wanted earlier.

He hasn't the slightest clue if he'll make it in time. Zayn could've already left, and in hindsight, he probably should've just taken a taxi or something, but all he knows at this point is that he has to keep running forward. He can't stop for anything, not now. Not after everything.

Heart racing, breath rasping, messy hair clinging to his forehead, his heavy legs and leaden feet are finally able to round the corner Zayn's building is on. He pauses to release a breath of relief when he sees Zayn getting into the passenger seat of a car because he made it just time.

That relief, however, is short-lived because the car starts taking off, and Harry panics because it's on the other side of the street, and he's sure neither Zayn nor his sisters have seen him yet.

 _Shit_ , _what_ _do_ _I_ _do_?

Recklessly run across the street in front of said car in hopes to be noticed (or killed) apparently.

Doniya, who's sat in the driver's seat, widens her eyes immediately as they land on him, and she screams while she presumably slams her foot on the brakes, and the car screeches to a stop.

Harry's body shakes, and he gulps as Zayn promptly lowers his window and pokes his head out. He looks like he's fuming but also worried. He'll take it. "Harry? What the hell?" He yells. "What are you doing?"

Harry holds a finger up, taking a deep breath before patting the hood of the car and closing his eyes as he silently thanks the one above that he's still standing. He ambles over to the passenger door, trying his best for a smile which probably doesn't really work given that he has to hunch over to catch his breath, still huffing and puffing from all the running and near-death experience. "Zayn..." He manages to get out. "I was afraid you'd... but you're... and I... and I'm so... hi."

Zayn's hard expression softens, if only a tiny bit. "Hi, Harry."

"Don't tell me you understood a word of that." Waliyha looks at him bewilderedly from the backseat.

Doniya nods in agreement, her hand on her chest. "Are we missing something here?"

Zayn ignores them, only shaking his head and muttering a small "I'll be right back," before opening his door and stepping out to pull Harry by the arm. He leads them over to the sidewalk, a good enough distance away that his sisters can't hear their conversation. "Harry, is there something wrong with you? Why would you do that? You could've gotten yourself killed."

"But I didn't," Harry points out with a tentative smile. It's so good to see him, even if he isn't as equally delighted at the prospect.

Zayn shakes his head again, wrapping his arms around himself. He's not budging. "What are you doing here? We were just-"

"Leaving for home, I know," Harry finishes, "but you can't."

Zayn doesn't even bother raising an eyebrow like he usually would. That scares him. "I can't?"

"No." Harry almost falters. He sounds exhausted. "Not... not yet anyway."

Zayn sighs, folding his arms. "Yeah, Harry? And why is that?"

He nearly recoils at the sheer aloofness radiating off Zayn. If his eyes weren't puffy like he'd been crying all night (and if Olivia hadn't hinted at it earlier), and if Harry hadn't seen the pure panic painted across his face just minutes ago at the idea of him getting hurt, he'd guess that Zayn didn't want anything to do with him anymore, or that he didn't in the first place, but he definitely does, and something pulls at the strings of Harry's heart because he was stupid and didn't see it sooner. "Can we talk?"

Zayn sighs again, this time stepping away as his face contorts into a pained expression. "No, Harry. We can't talk. I wanted to last night, remember? We tried, and now it's too late because I have to go-"

"I know."

"You know?" Zayn echoes tiredly. "What, Harry, what is it that you know?"

"I know how you really feel about me," he breathes.

"Oh, is that so?" Zayn scoffs, uncrossing his arms. "What, did Olivia tell you?"

This time, Harry does draw back. That hurt, especially with the way he said it, but he guesses he deserves that. Zayn must see the anguish on his face though because he's quick to tread forward, apology written all over his.

"Shit. Shit, I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean- I just- I know that she went over there after she left here, so I know that she must have told you..."

"... that I'm an idiot who broke your heart?" Harry's voice cracks. "Yeah, she might've mentioned it." He pulls at a curl and wants to kick himself. "I didn't mean to, Z, and I know that that doesn't make it much better, but it doesn't make it any less true either."

"No, I get it," Zayn tells him, shaking his head and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. He doesn't look up at him. "I dated your best friend for almost a year. Why did I think that you'd believe me telling you that I'm in love with you?"

"But I do," Harry hurriedly assures him. "I do believe you."

Zayn raises his gaze to him. "No, Harry, you don't. You're only here because Olivia sent you." His eyes are sad, and it feels like last night all over again, only this time, Zayn is the one pulling away.

"No, I'm not." Harry shakes his head as well, stepping forward. "... Well, maybe I am because I wouldn't be here if she didn't give me the okay, but that wouldn't have even mattered if I didn't believe that you loved me. I wish I could say that I've always known, but I didn't until you made it clear to me last night, and I'm sorry that it took me this long to realize it, but I meant it too, Zayn, when I said that I fell for you. I just- I just didn't think that there was anything that I could do about it, anything that I could do about your confession because I didn't want to hurt Olivia."

Zayn lours. "And you think that I would? That I wanted to?"

"No!" Harry practically yelps. "No, I was just scared and drunk, and I thought that maybe you'd broken up with her because of me, and I hated myself for it, and I didn't think that I was deserving of your love. It was never about me not seeing it," he explains, taking both Zayn's hands in his. For a second, it feels like he wants to tug them away, but he doesn't. Harry glances down at them, grateful, as he runs one of his thumbs along the skin there and chooses his next words carefully. "No. No, I've always felt it. How could I not when you're so good and nice and patient with me, even though I was a dick to you the past year. I don't know, I just didn't think that it was anything more than you offering me your friendship, but last night you made me see that it's more than that, that we can be more than that. I really was only hesitant because I didn't want to put Olivia through what I experienced when the two of you first started dating, but I talked to her, and she told me that she talked to you, and she assured me that she's okay with this, with us, so if you'd let me, Zayn, I'd like to show you my love for you."

Zayn doesn't say anything for a while. He looks down at their connected hands too before eventually speaking up, shakily, "That sounds really amazing, Harry, and there's nothing that I want more... but what if she hadn't?"

"What?"

He makes eye contact again, and now it's a little too much. "What if she hadn't? You- you keep saying that Olivia's influenced your decisions in all these ways, and I get that. I do. You guys have been close your entire lives, and I could never dream of asking you, or even her, to do anything that would come between you two," Zayn stresses, "but what if she hadn't talked to you, H? You said it yourself that you wouldn't be standing here. So what, you would've just pushed me away again? You would've just froze me out for months _again_?"

"I..." He's not sure that he can answer that.

"And what if she didn't break up with me?" He goes on. "Would you ever have had the courage to tell me how you feel? Would I have?"

Harry doesn't know, but he doesn't think that he wants to. He squeezes Zayn's hands and pulls him in closer. "Does it really matter? What counts is that she did talk to me, and I am standing here, and you did have the courage to tell me how you feel... Right?"

Zayn keeps his unwavering gaze on him, his eyes clouded. "Yes. I mean, no." He shakes his head. "I don't know, Harry. After I left your flat, I just had lots of time to think."

Harry feels his throat tighten. "Lots of time to think," he iterates weakly. "Does that- does that mean that you've changed your mind about us then? About me?" Does that mean that he's just made a complete fool of himself running here (in front of a moving vehicle, in case anyone forgot) to confess his love?

"No," Zayn rushes to say. He shakes his head slowly and gives Harry a more tender look as he reaches up to press his hand to his cheek. "No, I don't think that I could, even if I wanted to, babe." He bites his bottom lip, a sort of smile tugging at the corners. "No, I just think that this is all a bit complicated right now. There's a lot for us to consider, a lot for us to think about and talk about, so maybe we should just take this slow."

"Slow?"

"Yes, slow. I'm going away for the weekend. That gives us plenty of time to think about what we really want, to think about us, yeah?"

"Oh," is all Harry can think to say to that at first. This isn't exactly where he thought this conversation would go, but he'll take it. Of course he'll take it, so, "Yeah." He nods. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I want to try this, Harry. I do." Zayn clasps his hand tighter, and Harry leans into his touch, feeling like he's truly being looked at for the very first time. "I just think that whatever this is, it's going to take some time. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course." He smiles at his brown-eyed boy, realizing that he one hundred percent means it. He's happy to go at whatever pace Zayn wants them to. Even thinking of them as an _us_ is more than he could hope for, actually.

"I should get going." Zayn lets the hand on his cheek fall. "My sisters are waiting for me."

"Right." Harry'd momentarily forgot about them. His memory’s the shittiest.

Before he can think of a non-awkward way to say goodbye, Zayn is tilting his head up and capturing his lips in a kiss. It's short and sweet, and not at all as passionate as their first one was, but it definitely gets his heart going and has warmth spreading throughout his body just as much.

"I love you," Zayn whispers as they pull apart. A grin instantly stretches across his face. He could definitely get used to hearing those words directed at him. "Don't get yourself killed while I'm gone, Styles."

Harry breaks into a laugh. "I'll try my best," he promises, smiling. "Can't have you missing me anymore when you've already been doing that your whole life, now can I?" He teases, deciding to test the waters a bit as he presses a quick peck to Zayn's lips before he can reply and really has to leave. "I love you too, Zayn."

He could definitely also get used to saying those words, he notes, discovering that it feels just as good finally being able to say them back.

So this is what it feels like to be in love, huh? Why didn't he try it sooner?

-

"Didn't I tell you wankers you'd have to cough all your money up?" He hears Louis say as soon as he walks through the door to their flat. "Look at that face. There's no way you won."

Niall laughs next to him and nods. "Hahaha, hand it over."

Olivia glares at them both from her seat in the armchair. "Yeah, no way. The fat lady hasn't sung yet." She turns her attention to Harry. "Hazza, if you may."

"If I may what? I'm confused," he admits, shrugging his jacket off and putting it on the hook near the door.

"They bet on you," Liam discloses easily, not even looking away from the show that he's watching.

The other three scowl at him accusingly, and Louis sits up from off his chest. "Don't try to take yourself out of this," he condemns. "You bet too."

Harry wishes he could say that he's surprised. He sighs as he walks over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, but I'm going to tell you anyway that Louis and Niall bet that you'd blow your chances with Zayn and/or that you two would break up today before you both even started dating, even after I practically handed him over to you on a silver platter- Lou's words- but I believed in you, so prove me right," Olivia expounds all in one breath.

"Prove you right?" He repeats, placing his now empty glass on the counter.

"Yes! Did things go spectacular with Zaynie or what?" She asks, tapping the arm of the chair excitedly. "Did you both declare your love for each other and share a passionate kiss in the rain? Was it everything you wanted and more? Tell me before I burst."

Harry's eyebrows furrow. "It's not raining."

"Details." His best friend bats her hand in a dismissive manner. "C'mon, spill. The people need to know."

"Yeah, start talking, Harold," Louis tells him, still squirming away from his boyfriend who's trying to get him back into his arms.

"You know they aren't going to shut up until you do," Liam says, effortlessly restraining both of Louis' hands and wrapping an arm around him.

"And we really are interested to know, mate," Niall adds, paying no heed to all the roughhousing happening next to him.

But Harry just slightly frowns. "I appreciate the concern, guys, but I'm actually not sure that I'm comfortable speaking to you all about this just yet."

"Right, right." Liv begins nodding reassuringly. "Of course. This is all new to you. It's probably a bit overwhelming, and if you feel uncomfortable, that's totally understandable." She gazes at the other boys pointedly, and the three of them start nodding too. She looks back at him and smiles. "But if you could just tell us if he kissed you on the curb or kicked you to it, honey, that'd be-" The slam of Harry's bedroom door cuts her off. "-great!" She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts.

After a beat with no reply, she inhales sharply before sagging back onto the chair. "It may have been a bit too soon, lads."

And Niall doubles over in laughter.

There's a knock at his door a few minutes later. He already knows who it is, so with just a small sigh, he calls out for her to come in.

"Hey, you," she greets him cautiously, closing the door behind her. She doesn't venture in any further. "You okay, babe?"

He only glances up at her from the book he's reading. "I am," he says simply before looking down at it again.

Olivia nods slowly. "Well, I hope you know that we were just joking around out there. We didn't mean anything by any of the stuff we said."

"Yeah, I know," he answers. What kind of person would he be if he wasn't already used to them?

She inclines her head once more and purses her lips. "So you're holding up then?" She tries again.

"I am," he repeats and almost smiles at the fact that even from here, he can tell that she's practically wriggling awkwardly in her spot. He knows it's killing her that he's not going into much detail with his responses right now.

She stares down at her feet and glides one carefully across the floor from side to side. "Do you maybe want to tell me about how it went then?"

He chuckles lightly and finally gives in, closing his book, putting it aside, and patting the spot next to him on his bed. His best friend happily settles into it, and for the next few minutes, he goes on to reveal to her parts of the conversation that he had with Zayn, leaving out most of the bits where they talked about her.

She's already done so much for him. He doesn't want her worrying about if she's still being a sort of wedge in his and Zayn's relationship, if you can even call it one as yet.

"Hazza, that's great." She grins and shakes his arm enthusiastically. "You both want to try this despite all that's happened."

He can't help smiling as well. "We do, and it is," he concedes, "but are you sure you're really okay with it?" He still has to make sure.

She laughs slightly, shaking her head at him. "Are you ever going to stop asking me that? I've told you already, loser. I want you two to be together." She rests a hand on his thigh. "I never thought much about it before, but Zarry's my otp. I'm probably going to be the one that arranges your wedding, and I honestly can't wait," she squeals, squeezing it.

Harry coughs. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself there?" He asks hypocritically like he hasn't already thought about what his and Zayn's children's names will be. She only laughs, and there's a lull before he continues more quietly, "But you're really alright, Liv?"

"Yes, I'm really alright, Haz." She smiles softly at him, and he can't see that she's lying. He's glad. "Thank you for asking, _again_." She reaches up and kisses his cheek. "Now," she pats his thigh one more time, "do you wanna cuddle and watch a film? We don't have to talk about boy drama anymore."

He can't think of a better way to spend his afternoon, so tugging her closer with a smile, he tells her, "Sure."

-

"Harry, you're blocking the telly again," Louis informs him on a tired exhale.

He jumps and snaps out of his thoughts, a sheepish look taking over his features. "Shit, sorry." He didn't realize he was pacing.

His roommate barely shoots him a second glance as he keeps browsing through his options on Netflix. "Gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Harry plops down next to him on the couch. "Nothing's wrong," he lies.

Louis only shrugs. "Eh, I'm sure you'll tell me eventually."

He scoffs, puts both his feet up on the coffee table and crosses his arms, but when Louis doesn't press any further, he gives in and mutters a low "Zayn's coming back tomorrow," as casually as he can muster.

Louis snorts. "There it is." He shuts the television off before turning to Harry fully. "I'm aware. Thought you'd be more happy about that."

"No, I am," he insists. "I'm very happy, but what am I going to do, Lou?"

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ ," he dramatizes, throwing both his hands on Louis' shoulders and shaking them, "I don't know how I'm supposed to act around him anymore. Do I treat him like a friend or something more? Can I kiss him like I did the other day when he was leaving for home, or was that just a one time thing? Does he want me to be all affectionate with him or keep him at a distance until we're ready to take things to the next level? And if so, what level is that, and what level are we on right now?" His eyes widen with each sentence, and his breath comes up shorter. "Do you see where I'm going with this? What if I make another mistake, like I did that night I let him leave? What if I make a million others? What if I mess everything up, Louis?"

Louis pries his hands off his shoulders and sets it in his lap. "Harry, calm down, will you? This is Zayn we're talking about. Why are you getting all freaked out?" Harry merely raises both eyebrows at him because he's kidding, right? "Okay, so I get why you are, but still. This _is_ Zayn, and Zayn loves you. He said so himself."

Harry pulls at his lip nervously, sitting back. "He did, didn't he?"

"Yes, so I don't think that he's going to be hard on you for not knowing exactly what to do in such a unique situation as yours," Louis points out. "And if he is, and he makes you sad for absolutely no good reason at all, he'll have to answer to me, okay? So quit your blubbering." He nudges Harry's shoulders with his own. "It's all going to work out, I promise."

"Yeah." Harry nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Louis smirks. "Aren't I always?"

"Well, I don't know about that."

"I am," he asserts. "Accept it, Harold, and move on with your life. I have."

Harry's sure he has. Still, "Thanks, Louis." He smiles gratefully at him and moves to rest his head on his shoulder.

"Don't mention it. I'm always here for you, Haz. It's an unfortunate fact, but a true one at that."

-

He wakes up unbelievably early the next morning because his nerves keep him from staying in bed for longer than a just a few hours.

He's antsy at breakfast with Liv and fidgety in his classes that follow, even though his best friend reiterated what Louis told him the previous night that everything with Zayn would be fine. Niall wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at him as he prepares his and Zayn's usual coffee orders, and Liam wishes him good luck, and as appreciative as Harry is for all of their support, it does nothing to calm the butterflies in his stomach.

He pushes the door open to step out of the cafe, ready to head to the art center, when he stops, a worrying thought creeping into his mind. He doesn't even know if Zayn's booked the lab today. He only does so when he has a project to work on, so what if he isn't there? What's Harry going to do? How will he find him?

The butterflies start raging again, it feels like his skin is jumping, and a part of him wants to ring Olivia to ask if she knows where he is, but he quickly talks himself out of that. Why would she? They're not dating anymore. He still has to get used to that.

So should Harry call Zayn up instead? Maybe text asking if they can meet? Would that be moving too fast? He doesn't know.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he stands in front of the coffee house looking like a lost puppy. Zayn's the only one who has the power to make him feel this disoriented, and he doesn't know how to feel about that.

He shakes his head and huffs, psyching himself up. He decides fuck it, he'll just go. What's the worst that could happen? If Zayn isn't there, he'll figure it out when the situation arises. Yeah, that's it. It's as easy as that.

He doesn't lift his gaze off the ground as he starts marching toward the art center with intention, though his mind is still swirling. Predictably, he doesn't have enough time to stop when he sees a pair of boots come into his line of sight, signaling that he's about to crash into another body, but he feels familiar hands immediately grip at his waist, halting him, and relief fills him up.

"Didn't I tell you to be more careful, Styles?"

The familiar voice sends shivers down his spine. His clutch tightens on both cups. His breath catches as his eyes meet his favorite brown ones which are only a few inches away now, and wow, he's beginning to love his luck.

"Zayn. Hey. Hi. I swear I'm only this clumsy around you," he divulges breathlessly.

Zayn laughs, and Harry swoons as he pulls them closer, feeling like these arms were made for holding him. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

Harry nods seriously. "You should. You know, I was just thinking about you," he blurts before he can stop himself. It's still hard to believe that he can say that out loud now, but maybe actually having Zayn here has made him bolder.

Zayn grins and runs a hand up his back. "That right?" Harry hums. "I was thinking about you too. Was about to go into the cafe to get you your favorite..." his eyes trail down to the cups in Harry's hands, "coffee." He laughs a little. "Looks like you beat me to it. Good thing we ran into each other then."

"Literally."

Zayn smiles before letting go of him and taking a step back. Harry tries not to pout. "Where were you headed, babe?"

"Thought I'd pop in and see if you were in the art lab," he replies. "Is- is that okay?" He still isn't quite clear on all the aspects that encompass taking things slow.

Zayn continues beaming at him gently. "Course it is. I was actually just thinking about going to the park though. Didn't book the lab today. Do you maybe wanna..." he trails off, appearing hopeful.

"Yeah," Harry dimples back. "Of course. I'd love to." He hands Zayn his coffee as they easily fall into step. "So,” he starts, thinking up something to talk about, “how was the birthday?"

Opportunely, that was exactly the right question to ask as it immediately has Zayn excitedly launching into a story involving his parents and sisters and cousins and friends back home. He starts rambling on about them and talking with his hands, and Harry can't help thinking how much he loves seeing him get like this, how much he loves seeing him speak so ebulliently, with such effulgence in his eyes and affection in his voice that it makes him feel like he's falling all over again.

And when Zayn casually reaches over and laces their fingers together, pressing the sides of their bodies close, only smiling shyly at him over the rim of his coffee cup, well, maybe Harry decides that a little disorientation isn't so bad after all, and maybe he's quite enjoying this, quite enjoying the feeling of living love in slow motion.

Whatever it is, he's just happy that they took this chance, and deep down, he knows that all along Olivia and Louis and everyone else was completely right: he and Zayn will be fine.

They'll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and lemme know what you guys thought :)x


	13. having no regrets is all that they really want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is worried about something, but it all works out in the end, just like it always does. Just like it always will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it’s been forever since I last updated. I feel so bad, y’all. Is anyone even still reading this?

" _Wow_ , that's quite a fancy suit you're wearing there, lad," Niall hollers, teasingly waggling his eyebrows at Louis, who's finally decided to leave his bedroom and grace the rest of them with his presence in the living area.

Harry almost laughs when he notices that he's still dusting what just may be imaginary dirt off his shoulders. (He thinks that Lou's been doing that for at least the last twenty minutes now, and there can't be anything left, can there?)

"I didn't even know you owned more than just the one you wore at Zayn's party. You got a hot date tonight or sumnat?"

His roommate immediately scowls at Niall's words but doesn't say anything. He must be more nervous than Harry originally thought.

"He's right," Zayn cuts in. "Things must be getting pretty serious between you and Li if you're getting all dressed up like this just for him."

Louis' faces breaks into a sarcastic smile. "Hilarious, really. Now do me a favor and fuck off?" He tells the two before turning to Harry as he swipes his hair out of his eyes. "How do I look?" He asks breathlessly.

"Like an absolute dream," Harry replies without hesitation, because he was with Louis in his bedroom before Niall and Zayn even came over, and he knows how utterly nervy his friend really is about tonight.

"Cheers, mate," he smiles at Harry gratefully.

"So where're you boys headed for the big six month anniversary dinner?" Niall seriously wonders aloud, reaching for his beer off the coffee table.

"I wish I knew," Louis frowns, biting at the nail on his thumb. "Liam just told me to dress nice. You think this is good enough?" He asks yet again.

"For the hundredth time, Lou," Harry rolls his eyes, "you look terrific, but honestly, since when have you even cared? You know that Liam'll love you in anything that you wear."

"Or _out_ of anything that you wear," Zayn mumbles, and Harry elbows him.

Louis opts to ignore him once more as his brow furrows further. "I- I know, but I just wanted to give him this at least. Is that so crazy?"

"Alright, mate, what's with you tonight?" Zayn interrogates, sounding amused. "I don't think that I've ever seen you act like this for someone who wasn't a part of your family."

"Meaning?"

"You're acting all soft and gentle and wanting everything to go perfect just 'cause it's him."

Niall snorts, interrupting him. "Please, you're one to talk," he mumbles as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him.

But " _Right_ ," Louis readily agrees loudly, "like he isn't exactly the same, if not worse, when it comes to Harry. They both are."

Harry chuckles. "I'm right here, Lou," he reminds him from where his head rests on Zayn's thighs. He knows that he shouldn't even bother trying to refute their claims- he'd ended up in this very position just a few minutes ago by Zayn ungrudgingly giving in to his demands to pet him, after all, and he knows that'd he'd do the same if Zayn asked- so he simply lifts one of his shoulders in a careless shrug instead. "But I guess you're right. The only difference between our two relationships, though, would be that Zayn and I have actually admitted that we love each other, yeah? How's that going for you again?"

Louis glares at him for that, and he's aware that he deserves every bit of his dirty look for using that against him, but he can't really bring himself to care right now, especially when he's more focused on the feeling of Zayn's fingers caressing his scalp.

"Oh, _yeah_ ," he sneers, "you both confessed after almost a whole year of not speaking to each other. You are absolutely right, Harold. You lot truly are my relationship goals."

Niall breaks into a laugh, and Harry flips him off. Zayn chuckles and brings his free hand up to kisses his knuckles, assuring him that Lou's just a twat. He knew that already, but it's fine, really. He's just glad that they've gotten to a point where they can joke and talk about this now without him feeling glass shards run through his heart.

"Anyway, nice try, Styles, but I assure you, Liam and I will both say those three words when we're ready." Or at least that's what Harry knows Louis keeps telling himself, because ' _why won’t he say it first, Harry?_ '

"Yeah, besides, Hazza," Niall starts, taking a sip of his drink, "apart from the whole I love you thing, you two haven't really made much progress in your 'relationship' in the last month, have ye?"

Wait, that one doesn't sound like a joke.

He makes a face as he abruptly sits up to leer at the blonde. "What are you talking about? Yes, we have," he insists defensively before looking at Zayn. "Haven't we?"

"Of course, babe."

Louis snorts, moving over to the fridge to get a beer for himself. "You sure about that? Are you two even dating really?"

Harry wants to tell him off and assure him that they are, in fact (aren't they?), but Zayn is scoffing before he can get a word out. "So what if we aren't?" He quickly snaps his mouth closed. _Alright then, never mind._

"Nothing, nothing," Niall tells him easily.

"Obviously it's not nothing," Harry grumbles, crossing his arms. "Tell us."

"Okay," Niall starts, "well, it's just that- it's just that you're both back to acting like you did before you started going out with Liv, Zayn, only this time your tongues are always down the other's throat."

Harry's face heats up at that last bit, but he still manages a scowl. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well," Louis shrugs, tilting his bottle with the action, "that's how you both got into that whole miserable misunderstanding in the first place, innit?"

"By acting like you're both just weirdly close friends, when you're clearly more than that, and always have been," Niall elaborates, reclining in the armchair.

Harry frowns. He isn't seeing the point that they're trying to make. "That's just because we agreed to take things slow this time around."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," he assures him.

"We're just giving you some food for thought," Louis says.

Niall nods and takes the final swig of his beer. "We'll support you both no matter what. You know that."

Neither Harry nor Zayn have a chance to reply because a knock at the door sounds and effectively puts an end to their conversation. Louis slightly jumps, (wow, Harry's really never seen him like this) before going over to open it, a wide anticipating smile stretched across his features, only for it to immediately fall when he comes face to face with Olivia.

"Holy heck, you're all dolled up, Lewis," she chaffs straight away, not even giving him a chance to speak first as she eyes his attire. "Very nice." She nods seriously. "I didn't even you think owned more than just one suit."

Niall cackles from inside the flat. "That's what I said!"

Olivia laughs too and pushes past Lou to give Niall a high five as she plops down on the couch, which leaves Liam smiling in the doorway. "Don't listen to them, babe," he tells Louis. "You look phenomenal."

Harry wishes that he could see his face right now, but he thinks that he's managed to get his nerves under control. Or at least, he managed to hide them because "Tell me something I don't know, Payno," he replies in true Louis fashion. "Although, you aren't looking too bad yourself." He leans in for a kiss... Then another. Then another.

"Ugh, get a room," Harry rags after at least the fiftieth, playfully rolling his eyes.

Liam frowns thoughtfully as he finally pulls away. "No, I'm afraid that we'd miss our dinner reservations if we did that." Harry's face scrunches up in disgust.

"Would that really be so bad though?" Louis whines, nosing at his boyfriend's jaw.

Liam chuckles. "Yes, but also no." He takes both of Louis' hands in his. "Come on. Let's get out of here before I change my mind and stay here with you forever."

Olivia is the one pretending to gag this time. " _Okay_ , and on that disgustingly sweet note, you ready to head out too, Nialler?" She glances at him, tipping forward to pat his leg. "I'm not sure how much more of this loving atmosphere I can take."

Harry sees Louis go rigid at the mention of that word again. He wonders if Liam noticed.

"Sure."

"Alright then. Goodnight, babies." Liv leans over to plant a kiss on his cheek and sends a smile Zayn's way. "I'll see you guys at brunch tomorrow."

"Night, Liv," Harry smiles softly at her.

"Goodnight," Zayn calls as she walks to the door.

"Yeah, see ya, lads," Niall says, pulling his coat on. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"But don't enjoy it too much," Louis warns, hastily chugging down all that's left of his beer, much to Liam's disapproval. He wipes his mouth with back of his hand. "Remember I live here as well, and I'd really prefer it if I didn't come back to find stains all over the place." He gives them both a knowing look.

Harry nearly chokes, and Zayn groans. "Goodnight, Lou, and good luck on your date, Liam. I'm sure you'll need it," he states.

"And you two have fun at the show," Harry tells Niall and Olivia. "Take lots of pictures for me."

They both promise to do so, and after a string of more goodnights, the four are finally all out of the flat, "and then there were two," Harry whispers, for some reason, resting his head on Zayn's shoulder.

"Ooh, alone at last." He wiggles his eyebrows down at him, causing Harry to giggle.

"You are such a dork."

"Maybe," Zayn allows. "But I'm your dork." He kisses Harry's temple, and Harry feels his heart warm at his words. "So, what do you want to do tonight, babe?"

"You," he replies, only half joking. Zayn's eyebrows arch this time, and yeah, that's fair, he supposes.

See, the thing is, as of late, they've gotten further and further each time they've... _messed_ _around_. They've done a lot, really- their bloody roommates Louis and Niall who have disgustingly poor timing could attest to that- but they're still not quite there yet, and Harry's honestly completely fine with that fact. He means he'd love it if they were there, but he knows that this- _them_ \- it's something entirely new for both of them, and he doesn't want either of them jumping into anything that they're not ready for yet.

Zayn chuckles. "I think that we should save that for later." His tone makes it sound like a joke, but Harry's sure that there's some seriousness behind his words.

He lifts his head and leans in for a smooch, nevertheless. "Boo," he murmurs and tries to pout, and Zayn laughs into his mouth.

"How about this? We can make some dinner together first," Zayn kisses him briefly, "continue where we left off on _The_ _Office_ ," he does it again, "and then see where the night takes us." He connects their lips once more, only this time he sticks his tongue in Harry's mouth, and it goes straight to his cock.

"Mmm," he moans, swirling his tongue and sitting up only to throw one of his legs over Zayn's so that he's straddling him. "That sounds perfect." He tugs on Zayn's bottom lip with his teeth.

"To do that," Zayn starts, placing a hand on his ass- he squeezes it, "you're going to need to move though, babe."

Harry hums, shaking his head. "I don't want to." He cups Zayn's cheek and begins kissing and sucking his way down his jawline.

Zayn's grip tightens. His eyes darken. "Keep doing that, and neither will I."

Harry doesn't need to hear anything more.

-

"Hey, y'all right?" Olivia hears Niall ask after a couple minutes of walking in silence.

Shit, she hadn't even realized. It must have been suffocating. She turns to face him and finds him peering at her a bit concernedly. She tries for a smile just for his sake, but she doesn't think that she quite manages, so she simply looks away, stuffing her hands deeper into her coat pockets. "Yeah, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

She sighs heavily, mulling the whole thing over. "Don't know if I should say, really."

Niall doesn't reply to that, probably doesn't know how to, and they continue on their journey. She's grateful, actually, for the quiet.

Or, she was because it stretched on for so long that she really was starting to think that he wasn't going to say anything at all, but then he opens his mouth, and she realizes that he was just deciding whether to come out with it or not. He chooses the former, unfortunately. "You miss him, don't you?"

It's not even a question, honestly, but she feels herself crumble hearing it. She doesn't even need to ask him who he's talking about. They both know. "All the time," she breathes shakily before she can even think about what she's saying- Holy crap. What _is_ she saying? She can't believe she just said that out loud.

She hesitantly raises her gaze to Niall again and discovers that he's still looking at her, but he doesn't seem surprised, and he doesn't seem mad at her or disgusted, so she goes on, only a bit more faintly. "Oh, God. Honestly, like, don't get me wrong, Nialler. I don't regret breaking it off with him. I mean, I've never seen Harry so happy. I've never seen either of them so happy, and that makes _me_ happy, and I _wanted_ them to be together. I really did. I still do..." Niall doesn't say anything, but his eyes urge her to continue. "But I just thought that it'd get easier, you know? Being without him, I mean, but it's been an entire month, and it still hasn't. If anything, I feel like it's getting harder. Is that bad?" She feels as if she could break down right here in the street, but she won't. Not for this.

Without warning, Niall clasps her hand to keep her from walking. The last thing she sees is him shaking his head and wrapping his arms around her before she's pulled to his chest. "'s not bad at all," he whispers. "You're only human, Liv. Of course you're gonna feel like this. Fuck, it'd actually be worrying if you didn't."

She nearly whimpers as she clings to him like a lifeline. He doesn't know how long she's been waiting to hear those words, how long she's been holding all this in. "So you don't think that I'm an awful friend?"

He draws away from her, staring down at her as if she's lost her mind. Maybe she has. "Why would I? It's not like you're saying that you want him back, are ya?"

"I'm not. I don't." She bites her lip, moving her head from side to side. It's just that she and Zayn were dating for awhile, and now everything's different, and it's fine- she _wanted_ this, but it's just taking her longer than she thought for her to grow out of that routine where everything revolved around him and her and him.

"Alright, so quit talking shit that's not true. You're an amazing friend, but you can't be keeping all this in." He rubs both her shoulders. "It's okay to feel things, and it's okay to show it. No one expects you to be fine all the time, yeah?"

"But if Harry knew that I felt like this- if _they_ knew that I felt like this-"

"They'd understand." He cuts her off. "And even if they don't, who cares? You do, and I do too, so screw 'em."

Olivia laughs slightly and instantly crashes back into his chest to envelope him in her arms this time because she can't help it. She knows that he's only saying that to make her feel better, and it's working. "Thank you, Niall... I'm glad that the two of us get to have nights like this more often now."

She catches him off guard, but only seconds later is he smiling fondly and hugging her back. "Me too, Liv. Me too."

-

"Alright, I'm heading home," Zayn announces loudly, crossing his arms in a final attempt to get his attention.

Harry, at last, turns to him guiltily, fully shaking away his thoughts. Zayn's been trying to pull him out of them for the last few minutes now, even telling Harry that'd he'd look great if he shaved his head, (he's sure that he wouldn't) but he kept slipping out of the conversation.

"You are?" He can't help but pout, even though he knows that that's fair and that it's all his fault if Zayn does go.

He only gives him a flat look though. "No, but I should." He sighs and turns the telly off then knocks the side of Harry's leg with his knee. "Are you okay? What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

Harry bites down on his lip. "You mean the head that you want bald?" He decides to joke.

And it works because Zayn breaks into a laugh. "Ah, so you _were_ listening. I thought for sure that one would keep your attention."

Harry lowers his voice. "Did you say that you're leaving just to get my attention too?"

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you'd willingly just give it to me," he points out. "What were you thinking about?"

"Loads of things, really." He tries to play it off with a shrug.

Zayn nods. "Okay. Let me rephrase that then: what's wrong?"

Harry loves that he's so concerned. God, he really loves it- and him, but he really doesn't want to talk about it. Not right now, at least. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. 'm just tired," he fibs only a little.

"Right." Zayn frowns. "How long do you want me to pretend to believe that for?"

Harry almost laughs. He rests his head back on his bed board. "You don't have to pretend. I actually am tired."

"But something's also on your mind," Zayn finishes, following his movement.

"But something's also on my mind," he concedes, suppressing a groan. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Zayn answers certainly. "Or maybe I'm just that cool."

He actually does laugh this time. "You suck. I hope you know that."

"Actually," Zayn begins, moving a hand up to the base of Harry's neck. He starts massaging there. "I think we both do. We need a bit more practice though, I think." Harry almost squeaks at that and pulls away from Zayn to bury his face in the pillow on the arsehole's lap as he bursts into laughter. "Come on." He rubs Harry's back as his sniggering dies down. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me," he mumbles into the pillow like a liar.

Zayn waits to speak until he's looking at him again. "Then why are being so serious and thinky? You didn't say a word in like fifteen minutes, and you didn't even laugh at Michael's 'that's what she said' joke and try to tell me a bad one of your own. What's up?"

"Thinky's not a word, and you know it," Harry murmurs stubbornly, shoving his face in the pillow once more. He's always deflecting. It's starting to become a cause for concern, actually.

"Harry," Zayn says dourly, and it's only one word, but it feels like an entire paragraph.

Still, "What? It's true."

"Babe." Zayn's eyebrows pinch together. "C'mon, it's me."

Those words and Zayn's tone break something inside of him, so Harry finally cracks. He sighs. "Alright, alright. Fine."

"Thank you."

He takes a deep breath and sits up, putting some space between the two of them before asking the stupid fucking question that's been plaguing his mind for hours now. "Are you ever going to ask me out?"

Zayn blinks. He looks confused. "Ask- ask you out?" He echoes.

Harry knew that he shouldn't have said anything. Now he feels silly. "On a date," he clarifies nonetheless.

"I don't understand." Zayn shakes his head. "We've gone on dates."

"Have we?" Harry questions. "I don't think that dinner with my mum two weeks ago really counts."

Zayn only gives him a small smile. "But we've done a lot more than just that, babe. We have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together all the time, and we go to the park, and you come to the lab with me-"

"And we do a lot more, but it's no different than what we did when we were just friends," Harry completes for him a tad dryly.

Zayn's brow furrows, and for a second, he feels bad about saying it that way. "Is this about what Louis and Niall were saying earlier? Because you know that they just love giving us shit."

"Of course I know that." Harry shakes his head. "But- But it's not just them, Zayn. I mean, it's everyone. It's everything," he attempts to explain. "Part of what they said made sense, and even you said that we aren't even dating."

"No, I asked 'so what if we aren't,'" Zayn corrects, "because I don't think that it's a big deal. We both agreed to take this slow."

"Yeah, well, what if I don't want to take this slow?" He challenges before he can think about it.

Zayn halts, seeming unsure of how to proceed. "Okay," he speaks up unsteadily. "Then... then why did you agree to it, Harry?"

He scoffs, not understanding how he doesn't get it. "Because it's you, Zayn! What was I going to do, say no? And it's not like- it's not even about that. God, like, I don't mind taking it slow," he tells him. "I'm grateful for that, actually! Like, it doesn't even matter to me that while we hang out a lot, we don't do anything much that we don't do with the others, and I don't even mind that you and Olivia always used to eat out and have fancy dinners at romantic restaurants whenever you could, while we almost always just have takeout on the couch. You know, I don't even care that you never ever stay over, even when it's really late, and you know that it makes absolutely no sense for you to go home, and I don't even mind the fact that we don't call each other boyfriends even though we probably should be by now because we're in love, aren't we? I don't care about any of that. Hell, I don't even care that I don't know where this is going," he rambles on, "and sorry, that one was a complete fucking lie, because I absolutely do care, and I was fine with it at first, but now- now I want this to be like a real thing, you know?" He's out of breath by the time that he's done, and his chest feels tight, but the words were flowing out of him without him even realizing it.

Zayn must be able to tell. His previously taut posture relaxes as he wraps an arm around Harry's shoulder and draws him closer. "H. H, babe, what are you on about? This _is_ a real thing. It always has been." He lets his arm fall to take both of Harry's hands in his. "Look at me." He reluctantly lifts his gaze, and their eyes lock. "I thought we both knew exactly where this was going. I mean, personally, I- I think that this is _it_ , yeah? I mean, I _want_ this to be it."

Harry's breath hitches. "You do?"

"I really do," Zayn breathes. "Harry, you know, I like that we don't have to go out to fancy restaurants and stuff, for it to be considered a date. I mean, I like that this is our version of a relationship. I like that we can have romantic dinners, right here, alone, or at my place, even if it is sometimes _just take out._ " He rolls his eyes lightheartedly. "The two of us can just like chill and stay in, like tonight, and just enjoy each other's company, and I like it that we can also just go out to pubs with the others, or just like sit together while we do our own things. I love that about us, and I thought you did too." Well now Harry just feels like a giant dick for making such a big deal about them going out on a stupid date. He knows that he should have kept his loud mouth shut. "As for the reason I've never wanted to stay over... I didn't want to rush this. Haz, you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, and I'm not just saying that. I mean it with my entire being. I didn't want to mess this up. I _don't_ want to mess this up."

Harry's already shaking his head again because how could he even think this? "You wouldn't, Z. You couldn't. You can't, and you won't," he emphasizes, squeezing Zayn's hands as he finishes each sentence just to ensure that his point comes across.

"You don't know that."

"But I do," he swears. "I do, and I'm sorry for saying all that shit and making such a huge deal out of nothing. We don't have to, like, go out. That was stupid and inconsiderate of me to say. What we have now is enough. It's more than enough."

"It wasn't nothing, and it wasn't stupid nor inconsiderate," Zayn argues. "You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?"

"I do." Harry nods, biting his lip. He tips forward to kiss his shoulder. He's still sorry though.

"Good," Zayn goes on, "and we are going out."

That causes him to frown. "But you just said that we don't have to, and you're right. We can just keep doing this."

"Of course we can," Zayn agrees, "but you want to go out on a date, so I want to too. Come on." He runs a hand up Harry's back. "Get changed."

"What, now?" He simply nods in reply. "But we already ate."

"Who said anything about eating?" Zayn smirks. "Harry Styles, we are going out tonight."

-

He changes into something red.

Or, the first time he does, but Zayn tells him that his chosen sweater isn't warm enough for outside, so he has to change clothes again.

'Well, if you'd just tell me where we're going, we wouldn't have this issue in the first place.'

'How do you know that I even know where we're going?'

Zayn had just been messing around, obviously, since he'd driven in the direction of the ice rink without hesitation or a second thought, but Harry's not caviling.

"Why are we here?" He queries as soon as the car comes to stop, not being able to help the smile that spreads across his face. "Not that I'm complaining. I am in no way complaining."

"Well," Zayn starts, smiling over at him and at his enthusiasm, "I remembered how sad you were that you couldn't skate while we were back at the cabin, because the lake hadn't quite frozen over, so I thought 'why not'?"

Harry melts in his seat. Their entire relationship must be a dream. "Why are you the sweetest?"

Zayn simpers smugly. "I am, aren't I?"

Harry shakes his head and rolls his eyes as they both hop out of the car, but his smile is ever present. He grabs Zayn's hand, laces their fingers together, and begins leading them to the rink.

"So," he begins casually, "you still didn't answer my question."

Zayn glances at him. "What's that?"

"Can I call you my boyfriend now?" Harry wants to know.

Zayn grins, and his tongue pokes out between his teeth in the way that Harry adores. "If you want to, yeah. You can call me anything you like, babe."

Harry dimples in a second. They enter through the door of the rink and head over to retrieve skates in their sizes. "You once told me that you hate ice skating," he suddenly recalls after they've both been accommodated.

Zayn looks over at him, seeming surprised. "You remember that?"

Honestly, how could he not when every little moment with Zayn is tattooed to his brain? Of course he remembers. He shrugs somewhat sheepishly, but plays it off as if it really isn't something to behold.

Zayn looks away, but Harry catches him smiling at the ground. "Well, it's not that I hate it, per se. I'd just rather be on real solid ground in normal shoes, where it's safer, you know?" He expounds.

"Oh," Harry maffles. "You aren't going to skate then?"

Zayn licks his lips, and there's a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Got my skates, don't I?" God, Harry really loves him.

They go to sit down to change their shoes, and before Zayn has a chance to do it himself, Harry is kneeling in front of him to tie his laces.

"Babe, you don't have to-"

"I know," Harry tells him easily. He peers up at Zayn, smacking a kiss to his knee. "All done. I would have kissed your shoe in an insanely romantic way if I didn't think that would have been totally gross."

Zayn chuckles. "I'm really glad that you didn't, because if you did, I wouldn't be able to do this." He leans down to softly press his lips to Harry's.

"Oh, we couldn't have that, now could we?" Harry says solemnly, fighting the smile that's twitching at the corners of his mouth.

He does his own laces prior to taking Zayn's hand in his again and guiding them to the rink.

They start off slow, and Zayn grips his hand a little too tightly and crowds his body close, but Harry doesn't even bat an eye at that. He's just glad to be here with him, especially since he now knows that Zayn would rather not be and is only doing this because he knows that it's something that Harry wants.

They make their way around the rink and go around circles on the ice, and soon, their speed picks up as Zayn starts to become more comfortable, if only just a bit- though not comfortable enough to attempt to perform an overly complex figure skating routine, much to Harry's dismay.

"I'd literally break my arse if I tried that, Harry, and you'd likely break all your bones."

He laughs, ignoring that last bit, even though it's probably very true. "Are you saying that there's something in this life that you aren't good at?"

Zayn rolls his eyes with a smile. "I think that my performance tonight is testament enough to that."

Harry's phone rings in his pocket before he can answer. He fetches it to find Louis' name flashing across his screen, and for a second, his throat closes up because his roommate never calls him when he's out with Liam, not even to let Harry know that he won't be coming home, or in rare cases, that he is, (it was so fucking awkward and embarrassing that one time Louis found him and Zayn with their dicks out in the middle of the living area) so his first thought is that something must be wrong.

He nearly sighs in relief, however, when Louis' words make their way to his ear. "He said it, Harold! He finally fucking said it! Can you believe it?"

Harry's face unconsciously breaks into a smile. He doesn't even have to ask him what he's talking about. But he still has to give him shit. It'd be wrong if he didn't. "You seriously took time out of your date just to tell me that?" He asks teasingly as he tugs at Zayn's hand to stop them from skating.

He can imagine the way that a scowl must immediately paint across Louis' face. "Well, I'm sorry that I thought you cared, Harry. I'll remember this the next time you're whining to me about Zayn."

Harry wants to laugh, but he maintains a straight face and serious tone just for the sake of messing with him. "I don't do that."

"You do know that you're speaking to the Tommo, don't you? If it was anyone else, maybe they would have believed that blatant lie, but this is me."

Alright, he'll give him that. He purses his lips. "Okay, well, I mean, I don't _anymore_." This time, it's the truth. "Anyway, this isn't about me." He swiftly changes the subject. "You called to tell me some good news that I think is absolutely fantastic, and I'm really happy for you, Lou. I'm glad that you finally got what you wanted. You interrupted my date to tell me about it, but I'm still happy."

"Me too." Harry can hear the sincerity and pure, unadulterated joy in his voice. "Wait, date? You fuckers had a date and you didn't even tell us about it?"

Harry titters. "I'll tell you everything later. You keep talking about you."

Louis' silent for a minute before he releases a breath. He doesn’t have to tell him twice. "God, it felt so good, Harry. I never thought it could feel so good, but it was perfect. It was smashing. It was everything," he gushes, and it's weird to associate that word with Lou.

Harry smiles softly at his friend's enthusiasm though. "I'm sure it was, mate."

"I could just hear him say it on repeat for days on end," he continues, "and shit, I forgot how fast Liam pisses," he suddenly exclaims, cutting himself off. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, Haz. Give Zayn a big, wet one for me."

The line goes dead before Harry can say anything else, and honestly, he could just laugh at it all. He shakes his head on an amused exhale and runs a hand down his face.

Zayn caresses the hand still in his with gentle movements of his thumb. "What's up, babe?"

Harry gazes over at him, at his ever grounding presence, and shrugs, pulling him closer. "I don't know. I'm just thinking again..." He sucks on his bottom lip. "Does it ever- does it ever drive you crazy, babe?" He wonders.

Zayn snakes his arms around his waist. "What does?"

"Just how fast the night changes," he replies softly. "Just how fast everything changes." He looks down at their skates. "Liam just told Louis that he loves him. I mean, I can only assume that Louis said it back, but knowing him, he might have called me immediately after without even doing so... but it's just like, here I was already ready for a night in with you and _The_ _Office_ , but look where we ended up."

Zayn doesn't respond instantly. "Is that a bad thing?" He eventually asks quietly.

Harry's eyes promptly snap to his. "No. No, of course not," he reassures, shaking his head. "But we're getting older, and these are the things that I think about lately."

"About how fast things change?" Harry nods slowly, glancing down again. "Does it scare you?"

He isn't sure how to answer that. If he were to be thoroughly truthful right now, he'd tell Zayn that he fears that with life going so fast all time, one day everything that he's ever dreamed of- this, _them_ \- it'll be gone in the morning when he wakes up, and he doesn't know how he'd feel if that ever happened.

It's as if Zayn reads his thoughts though, or maybe, his silence was enough of an indication to his answer. "Babe," he hooks a finger under Harry's chin and lifts his head so that they're making eye contact, "there's nothing to be afraid of. Even when the night changes, even when _life_ changes, it will never change me and you."

That's a sweet sentiment. Unfortunately, Harry isn't too convinced. "But it has before." He hates to remind him, but he has to.

"But it also brought us back to each other," Zayn prompts without hesitation, "just like I always knew it would. Just like it always will."

Whether it's the words themselves, or the earnestness behind them, Harry's heart leaps in his chest, and it's beating- it's beating for one person, so there's nothing else left for him to do, really. He hastily clasps the lapels of Zayn's coat and instantly pulls him in for a fervent kiss, and the moment could have been perfect and profoundly romantic if he wasn't well, him.

He slips on his skates and falls hard on his ass on the ice, dragging Zayn down with him. He crashes onto him, causing both of them to loudly groan out in pain.

"Ugh," Zayn gasps, rubbing at the spot where his head collided into Harry's, "when are you going to stop falling for me, Styles?"

He manages to choke out a laugh despite the stinging _everywhere_ and all the wind being knocked out of him. "I don't think that I could, even if I wanted to."

Zayn rolls his eyes, no doubt at his cheesiness, and tumbles off him onto the ice as well. He winces. "I told you that the real ground and normal shoes were better."

"You did tell me that," Harry nods, "but look on the bright side, this whole date has brought us closer together."

Zayn looks like he wants to punch him, and frankly, he wouldn't even blame him if he did, but he just lets out a laugh. "Do you mean that metaphorically or verbatim?"

"Yes." He nods his head again, finally reaching over for a proper kiss, and Zayn lets him, and it's awkward, and his coat is cold and wet, and his back is aching insanely, and people are definitely giving them dirty looks because they're on the ground kissing in the middle of the ice rink for godsake, but it _is_ perfect because it's them, and Harry really wouldn't have it any other way.

Later, they go back to his flat, and the night changes once again. Only this time, there are absolutely no doubts running around in his head. Like Zayn said, this is it. He can feel it, and even- even if it isn't, even if this doesn't even end up working out, God forbid, _this is it_ for right now. This is it, and this is something that they both undoubtedly want. In this moment, he's sure of it.

Their eyes lock, and Zayn's pose a silent question to which Harry nods ever so slightly in response. He's ready. _They're_ ready, and even if they aren't, there's no turning back now. Together, they're heading for something that they won't forget.

Zayn nods too and reaches down to kiss his shoulder gently. He shivers as their hands find each other and intertwine, and a gasp pours out of his lips the minute they finally come together as one.

Every nerve in his body is electrified, and his breathing immediately quickens. His heart is beating loud, and he doesn't want it stop. It hurts, but he begs for more because even if he didn't know that it's supposed to get better, he can feel that it will.

Zayn's inside him, stretching him open, and his eyes are saying everything that he isn't, so soon, Harry can't help but feel his breath changing with each one of his thrusts. Soon, he can't help but hear his moans reverberating in his own ears as they bounce off Zayn's neck. Soon, he can't help that his body is writhing in place, and his mind can't fathom a time when he didn't feel this full (both literally and figuratively). He could cry at how good it all feels. He could cry because he doesn't want it to end, and he could cry because it's intimate and passionate and hot and truly everything that Harry's ever dreamed of.

"I love you," Zayn pants in his ear, kissing his temple and making everything all the better just like he always does. Just like he always will.

Harry shudders and raises a hand to run it through Zayn's wet hair before bringing him even closer. "And I love you," he whispers into his skin, meaning it with his entire being. He kisses down his neck and moves to his shoulder all while Zayn goes in and out of him, and it's bliss, and he never wants to not have this.

So, yeah, maybe he doesn't completely agree with Zayn saying that there's nothing to be afraid of, because plenty could still go wrong, (and with his luck, it's bound to) and he'd be fucking lying if he said that he wasn't still absolutely terrified... but Harry's just glad that, at least for right now, he can be sure that this is one thing that won't be disappearing when he wakes up. Harry's just glad that he was lucky enough to find a love that can't be made up.

**end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s been a minute, guys (understatement), and so much has happened since I last posted, but I just wanted to give you all the last chapter of Olivia. I do also want to post an epilogue sometime soon (I really shouldn’t use that word), but I’m not sure when that will be, so hopefully this is enough to hold you up :/  
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Be sure to comment ;) Have a good day, and stay safe my lovelies.


	14. epilogue (for the rest of our lives/ baby, be with me so happily)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so basically, just to preface this, this is way longer than I initially thought it would be, like way longer than any of the other chapters, and it isn't even really an epilogue. It’s more like a one shot sequel kinda thing, but that's cool.
> 
> Also, I wrote all this before the whole Zigi baby news lmao, (I'm extremely happy for Z btw, if it’s true and this is what he wants, and we all know that he's going to be an amazing dad) so just keep that in mind while reading this and be glad that AUs exist ;))

_**You don't understand, you don't understand What you do to me when you hold his hand We were meant to be, but a twist of fate Made it so we had to walk away** _

_

"Oh God." Harry stops in the doorframe as he takes in the scene before him. It's quite aesthetically pleasing to his eyes- of course it is. It's always nice to see his boyfriend all sleepy-eyed and splayed out across their pillows like that, but he still doesn't even bother holding back his groan as he enters the room. "Baby, are you really still reading that?" He whines, absolutely mortified. "C'mon, stop. It's awful. I still don't know why you even brought it with us."

Zayn just lazily smiles up at him and wordlessly reaches out for his hand. Harry wants to frown at that, but he just grudgingly (not really) takes it in his instead and is promptly pulled back into bed.

"It's a good read," Zayn corrects him, not waiting a minute to rest his head on Harry's shoulder. He nuzzles closer. "I remember you singing this one," he says softly, pointing to one of Harry's old songs which he wrote before they'd gotten together. "'s really deep, although the music would lead you to believe otherwise. Reading the lyrics properly now though... how did I not know that this was about me?"

Harry laughs big at that because it's honestly such a funny thing to think about (mostly) and gives his brown-eyed boy's hand a squeeze. "Louis always says we're both a bit daft, so I mean." He shrugs. "Why are you so interested in my old book all of a sudden? You know I've written tons of songs about you since then that are much less sad and sappy."

Zayn smiles on a yawn, which was bound to happen given he actually allowed Harry to wake him up this early in the morning today, and he appears all soft and pretty and painted with rest, and it's really one of Harry's top favorite looks of his. "I dunno," he purses his lips thoughtfully, "I think that I actually quite like reminiscing about the time when we were mutually pining for each other but didn't know it yet. Don't you?"

Harry playfully scrunches his face up, though he doesn't think that Zayn can see it from where he is. "No? Why would I? I was miserable and didn't know how your lips tasted back then. I like things much better now," he says with a firm nod and punctuates his statement with a kiss to Zayn's lips.

"That's fair," he grins, meeting his eyes now, "but it's still nice to remember how we got here."

"I agree," Harry nods again, "but those words are all cheesy and cliche, and I was being way too dramatic, so you really should stop reading them now before I have to pack up all my things and leave you and never look back out of sheer embarrassment." Though, now that he thinks about it, he's really not _less_ dramatic now, is he?

"You won't," Zayn tells him easily, lightheartedly rolling his eyes.

"I won't," he woefully agrees, pouting like it's truly something to be sad about, "but I can still threaten to."

"Good," Zayn smiles at him, pushing a loose strand of Harry's hair behind his ear. "I love it when you threaten me. 's cute."

"'s not supposed to be cute," he grumbles.

Zayn laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Harry's heart swells. He doesn't think that he'll ever grow tired of seeing that. "Yet here we are." He leans forward and pecks his nose, but Harry isn't having that, so he tilts his head and goes for his lips again. Zayn lets him because he's great like that, and he smiles against his mouth, allowing them to share slow, languid kisses until he has to grip at Harry's middle and mumble into his mouth that they should probably get out there now like they planned to.

And, no. Harry doesn't like that idea. " _Or_ we could just stay here and continue this," he suggests instead of getting out of bed like he knows that he should.

He pushes himself closer to Zayn and presses a hand to his chest, gently shoving him backwards until he's lying on the bed. "Harry-" He tries to say, but

"Shh," he places a finger to Zayn's mouth and simpers wickedly.

Harry grabs both his hands and pins them above his head then ducks his own down and begins attacking his neck with kisses, causing Zayn to start struggling against him and grunt out, "Harry, gerroff," from where he's wriggling under him. He lets out Harry's favorite sound though, his laugh, despite his words and the fact that he could probably move himself. "Come on. They'll be here any minute, and we still have loads to do."

Harry rolls his eyes, mouthing at his Zayn's jawline. "We have time," he insists, nipping at the skin there.

Zayn stops scuffling for a second. "Then why'd you wake me up?"

"So we could do this," he replies without missing a beat. "I thought that that was obvious."

His boyfriend slightly moans at a particular tongue and teeth combination as he goes back to writhing, but his tone tries to be firm when he says, "Babe, I'm serious. Olivia's already on her way."

Harry's the one pausing this time to pull his head back and gaze down at him. He gives him a look. "Since when have you ever worried about something like that?"

Zayn licks his lips in response. "I think that I'm more worried about us having to end this too quickly, actually." He squeezes Harry's waist. "So c'mon, up." Zayn moves a hand around to his back and rubs down it in the way that always makes Harry shiver.

"No," he refuses though, quickly moving to latch onto him like a koala bear. Zayn lets out a brief oof. "I don't want to."

" _Harry_." Zayn starts tickling and pinching him in an attempt to pry him off himself. "Get up, you muppet."

Harry swats both his hands away. "No. I just wanna stay here with you for a bit more," he mutters tragically. "Is that so bad, Zayn? That I want to spend time with you? I mean, who knows when I'm going to have you to myself again?" He's really hamming it up.

Zayn chuckles because he's used to him and all his dramatics (he blames living with Louis for them), and Harry can feel him shake his head. "I'd say tonight probably, but yeah, sure," he concedes, carding his fingers through Harry's hair.

"We don't know that," he insists, frowning. He sits up once more and glowers, but the smile that he gets in return tells him that it's probably not as effective as he'd hoped.

"I think we do," Zayn says nonchalantly.

He rolls his eyes and huffs because he's not getting the reaction that he wants, so he goes back to trailing wet kisses along Zayn's bare skin. It's warm under his mouth and sweet on his tongue, and Harry wants more. "Do you really want me to get off you?" He asks, glancing up at him through his lashes in the way that Zayn can never resist.

"Babe," he groans out when he nips at his nipple and swirls his tongue around it, "I know where this is going, and no," he reprimands, though he isn't making to move or move him. "We just had sex last night, multiple times. Our dicks are going to fall off."

Harry laughs as his mouth and tongue move lower. One more time couldn't hurt. It'd be like one for the road, and he tells Zayn as much, to which his boyfriend just rolls his eyes in return as he tries incredibly hard to fight a smile. "You still didn't answer the question, love."

Zayn squirms some more, shaking his head as his eyes ignite. "How can I when you're doing that?"

-

"Did you remember to bring it?" Harry asks quietly as soon as he opens the door for her. She leans up to kiss his cheek, and he regretfully realizes that he has to do the same as it is their custom, and she'd probably think that something was up if he didn't, but he really doesn't want to right now.

"The faith that you have in me." Olivia shakes her head when she steps away from him. She sets her bag at her feet. "Of course I did. Who do you think I am, Lou-?" She suddenly cuts herself off, and shit. She leans in again, but this time, it's to get a better look at him. She's onto him. "Are you- are you sweating?" She wonders, narrowing her eyes. "And why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

He feels his neck go warm, knowing he's been caught, so he raises his hand and uses two of his fingers to tug on his bottom lip. Not because he hurriedly had to pull said lips off Zayn when he heard incessant knocking at the door way sooner than he planned, why would she think that? "It's hot in here?" He tries.

"It's the middle of winter."

Thankfully, she doesn't get to say anything else on the matter, and he doesn't even have to attempt to because "Harry, don't let Shiver get out!" reaches their ears before either of them can.

The cat tries to run through his legs just as Zayn yells that, but Harry blocks her way with his foot. He instantly releases a sigh of relief. Zayn hates it when she gets outside more than he does when she gets into his art room back home.

"Oh, hello, little kitty," Olivia immediately squeals, bending down to pick her up, all her previous suspicions seemingly melting away. "I haven't see you in a while. How are you?" Shiver trembles in her arms in response, and Liv starts scratching behind her ears and under her chin, much to her delight. "Okay, so I'm going to ignore the fact that it seems like you and Zayn were actually having sex when you knew that I was already well on my way here, and instead ask you: so when are you planning on doing it?"

Fuck. Of course she had to say something.

He doesn't call her out on it though, just closes the door behind her and rubs his hands down his sweats, a bundle of nerves pooling inside of him all of a sudden at just the thought of their secret plan. "About that, I was thinking. Can't you just do it for me? I don't think that I can."

Olivia glances away from Shiver and raises her gaze to him, eying him strangely, and he guesses that's fair. "I'm not even going to answer you." She walks away from him and heads to kitchen with their cat still cradled in her arms. "Hey, Zaynie." She smiles devilishly at him in greeting and waggles her eyebrows. "How's it going? I trust that you've had a great start to your morning?"

He instantly takes a quick peek at Harry, who only shrugs and mouths to him that he swears he didn't say anything, before turning back to her. "I have, actually." He walks over to her, and they kiss each other's cheek as well. "I'm making sandwiches and chips. Do you want some?"

"I'd love it, thanks." She finds a seat at the breakfast counter, and the three of them begin catching up.

They both haven't seen her in person since her birthday in November, so it's nice, and it feels like no time has passed at all. "So, did Louis and Liam tell you when they're going to get here?" Olivia attempts to ask casually after awhile as she brings some chips up to her mouth.

Harry and Zayn share a knowing look before Harry directs it at her. "You can just ask about Ellie, you know."

She presses her lips together, setting them in a thin line prior to sighing indignantly like she's so terribly put out. "Ugh, fine. Did Louis and Liam tell you when _Ellie_ is going to get here?"

"Why are you berating her?" Zayn asks his boyfriend on a laugh. "You know that you're excited to see her too, and it's only been a few days since you have."

Ellie is Louis and Liam's six month old baby girl. She's the sweetest angel Harry has ever had the pleasure of meeting, and although Zayn has already told him that he's not to try to finally kidnap her while she's here, he's pretty sure that he's still going to.

"And you're not?" He asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Course I am," Zayn says easily. "Who wouldn't be?"

The couple had decided on a whim to have a baby about a year ago after they'd decided that, together, they could get through anything. Who cares if everyone else was saying that they were too young?

See, a bit after Liam had graduated uni, he and Louis moved in together, where shortly after, they'd had the biggest fight of their relationship to this day. It was intense. Harry's still not sure what exactly caused it, but he thinks that it was the result of a bunch of little things bubbling under the surface for a while that eventually just blew up in everyone's faces.

Louis had been a mess. He'd packed up a few things because they'd both decided that they needed space, and he'd came shakily to find comfort and a place to stay at Harry's and Olivia's.

Harry had never seen him like that. He'd been worried sick. Louis had called in sick for work and didn't leave his bed for six days straight, except to go to the bathroom. His face had been constantly tear-stained, his nose stuffed, his voice hoarse, and he'd barely been eating. But Harry had still preferred all that over the stage that he'd gone through next.

Liam had not been much better. He hadn't shaved or showered in Harry hadn't known how long, and he'd been crying each time Harry and Olivia went over to his and Louis' flat to check on him. Harry hadn't known who had it worst.

Louis had finally decided to leave the bed. He'd stopped crying, and while Harry and Liv had just been about to silently celebrate that, they had to stop themselves, because they'd quickly realized that he'd stop talking too, and that had been more frightening and worrisome than any of the other things ever could be.

Olivia, being the meddling fixer that she is, had officially freaked out after only a few hours of that and had marched right over to Liam's to talk some sense into him, while Harry had tried his best to do the same with Louis.

In the end, Harry had locked him out of the flat, and Olivia had dragged Liam to it, and they both hadn't let either of them in until they'd worked out their differences.

The entire thing had been a rollercoaster filled with shouts, sobs, declarations of love, and very snotty smooches from what Harry and Liv could tell through the door and peephole, and their relationship has been stronger and healthier ever since.

"I think that Niall's the most excited though," Zayn continues, "since he hasn't met her in person yet."

"Niall?" Olivia repeats dumbfounded, dropping her sandwich, and shit _again_. She quickly whips her head in Harry's direction. "Niall?" Her features darken, and he knows that's he's utterly screwed when she turns to Zayn and plasters on a sickly sweet smile just for him. "Uh, yeah. I bet he's real excited. Would you excuse us for a minute though, Zaynie? Harry and I just need to have a quick chat." She doesn't wait for him to reply as she viciously grasps at his arm and drags him out of the kitchen and to the couch. "Why did he just say Niall?" She whispers furiously, scowling at him. "You told me that he wasn't coming."

Harry only smiles even though his life may very well be in danger right now. "I wanted it to be a surprise," he echoes the words that she said to him just about exactly four years ago in a situation eerily similar to this one.

Her face contorts in a mixture of shock and horror. "You what? You're- you're despicable. What the hell, Harry? Are you serious right now?"

He scoffs, waving his hand in a dismissive manner, which only causes her to fume some more. "What's the big deal? You guys used to be close. Sometimes I thought that you even liked him better than me."

A cold breeze sweeps by then, and he shivers, so Olivia groans out like she doesn't really want to, but pulls him to his bedroom and orders him to get some warm clothes on. She sighs, shaking her head. "Okay, so we were close. I can't deny that even if I wanted to. It's just- we- we drifted apart after uni, you know?"

Harry nods, throwing on a shirt. "You mean after you broke his heart?"

Her eyes snap to his, and her facial expression is one of anger and anguish this time. "I didn't break his heart," she whines. " _Harry_. You can't say things like that to me." She just might break down right here if he keeps it up.

"I know. I know." He shakes his hair with his hand before walking over to her and pulling her in to his chest. "I was just teasing. You can't help how you feel. I know. I understand."

He's the only one who does, actually, apart from Niall, of course. The others only know a part of the story.

See, after Olivia and Zayn had broken up and Harry and Zayn had started getting serious, Olivia and Niall had had no choice, really, but to spend all their free time together. Louis and Liam had already been going strong. Who else were they going to hang out with? It had been great, honestly. It had been more than great, but the whole thing had also been a bit unhealthy, though she's not sure that she'll ever admit that.

Either way, it'd been too late when they'd both realized that they'd turned into Harry and Zayn pre-relationship with Olivia. The only difference was, when Niall had realized that he had feelings for her, he'd decided to do something about it straightaway, and he'd made sure that she knew how he felt.

The memory of that night still makes her throat tighten and her eyes water, but it's fine, really.

-

"Niall." She reached for his hand, and her heart instantly began to hurt. The dejected look in his eyes told her that he already knew what she was going to say, and they were both aware that things would never be the same again. "Niall, I have feelings for you too. Of course I do, but I can't, and you of all people know that."

He'd asked her what she'd meant by that, but he hadn't had to, not really. He'd known. She'd known.

"Niall, I can't lose you. I mean, you know how I felt when I'd just broken up with Zayn," she told him. "I still had to see him everyday after, and I was a mess. You were there. You saw firsthand, and- and I won't be able to handle that again if it's you."

Niall scoffed and shook his head. He wasn't planning on giving up so easily. "Who says it's going to be like that? Who says we're going to break up?" He tried.

Her heart clenched even more at that. She bit the inside of her cheek, looking away from him and shaking her head. "I can't take that chance. I'm sorry."

"Why not?" He was acting like he didn't understand, but he did. He had to. "You and Zayn are still friends. I'm not saying that it won't work out because I don't see how it couldn't, but it would be the same with us. I'm not going anywhere," he attempted to assure her.

But she couldn't do this right now. "No, you don't get it." She backed away from him some more. "It wouldn't be the same because the difference is that I'm actually in love with you."

She couldn't believe that she'd said those words, but she'd found herself not even trying to take them back. She'd been thinking long and hard about it though, so she'd known that they were true, but she'd also known how the situation would have been just like it was with Harry and Zayn. If they'd broken up and decided to remain friends, she'd have to see him everyday, maybe with someone else, and she'd have to endure the pain in her heart of knowing that she couldn't have him, no matter how much she wanted to. She didn't want to go through that.

"I need you, Niall. I really do. If it didn't work out, I wouldn't be able to be friends with you anymore," she explained, "and I can't have that happen. I'm sorry. You- you understand, don't you?"

He'd said that he did. He'd been there for her during the time in which she'd been getting over Zayn, so she'd been almost certain that he'd been telling the truth, but that hadn't stopped him from telling her that he'd needed some space.

Olivia had cried to Harry that night. She'd told him everything, from how she'd felt after she'd initially broken it off with Zayn to how much Niall had been there for her during the aftermath. She'd told him how when she'd fallen for him, she'd instantly known that she couldn't do anything about it, so she'd kept her mouth shut until he had.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, managing to sound hurt and concerned all at once.

"Babe, how could I?" She asked tiredly, sniffling. "How could I do anything to ruin your happiness more than I already did?"

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You didn't ruin my happiness. You didn't know."

"Still." She shook her head. "You and I both know that you would have broken up with Zayn the second that I told you that I missed him, even just a little."

"I still can," he swore.

"But you won't," she finished for him. "Because you love him, and you two are meant to be. I don't want you to break up with him. I never did. I was just having some adjustment issues, but I got through 'em."

"Niall helped you get through 'em."

"He did..." She nodded. "But I can't, Harry. What Niall and I have now is great. I just don't see why it has to change."

"Liv," he sighed, pulling her closer, "you know that things have changed. All of us do. We actually bet on how much longer it would take you two to realize it," he revealed. "We all owe Liam twenty quid." He pouted in remorse.

Olivia mustered up the strength to laugh at that, even though she wanted to do anything but. "All of us are way too involved in each other's love lives."

"I think you're right." He stroked her hair. "What are you going to do?"

"I think I'll tell them that I have a rule against dating my ex's best friend," she said decidedly. "Or maybe that I don't want to get involved with him since he's leaving me and graduating in a few months. Which do you think is better?"

Harry groaned. "I meant what are you going to do about Niall, but thank you for reminding me that my boyfriend is going to be hundreds of miles away from me soon."

She smiled and mumbled, "Sorry."

"I don't think that you are."

"You're right. I'm not," she agreed. "I'm sad. Cuddle me."

"Already on it." Harry squeezed her close.

After that, not much had changed. She and Niall had still hung out a lot, but she'd noticed that now he'd stop when he caught himself flirting with her, and there had been much more physical distance between the two of them, but she'd just been grateful to still share with him the bond that they had.

They had all gone to the cabin that year, and Olivia had been sure that she'd fallen in love with Niall even more after she'd watched him play the guitar and sing for her in front of a fire on their first night after both couples had disappeared. She'd became so nervous that she'd spilled sangria everywhere and had to go lock herself in the bathroom after out of absolute horrification.

Niall, being the amazing person that he is though, had pretended that nothing had even happened when he'd slid into the bed that they had to share about an hour later.

The rest of the trip had gone smoothly with them hopping right back into their same routine. They hadn't kissed at midnight on New Years, despite everyone else around them in the pub doing so, and some months later, Niall, Liam and Zayn had all graduated, leaving Liv and Harry as the only ones in their group still in uni.

At the boys' graduation party is probably where she could say that it had all went downhill.

Olivia had been drunk, way drunker than she'd ever been in her entire life, and it was all because of a laughing Niall and some girl whom Liv had never seen in all the years of her existence. Or maybe she had. It was really good vodka.

Luckily, she hadn't done anything crazy. Zayn had found her in the kitchen in tears and taken away the bottle before she'd had the chance to. He'd went to get Harry shortly after, who, in turn, had told Niall to talk to her. It had been suffocatingly silent for the both of them, she's sure, before Niall had finally asked if she was alright.

She snorted humorlessly at that and instantly hated the sound of it. "I think that we both know the answer to that question, and it's not a yes."

"Liv-"

"No, don't." She interrupted him. "Because God, Niall, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me." She flung both her hands up to cover her face in irritation, and crap, her head started spinning. "Like I'm not even mad at you," she whined, facing the ceiling. "I mean, I wish that I could be mad at you, but I'm not. I'm mad at myself because I'm still in love with you, and it fucking hurts, even though that's exactly what I was trying to avoid, and- and I wish that that was me out there with you, Niall, but it isn't, and I know that it's all my fault."

Niall sighed, reaching up to bring her hands down from her face. "I- I didn't mean for you to see-"

"But I did."

She cut him off once more, causing his eyebrows to pull together in frustration, and he shook his head in exasperation. She didn't like the look on him. "I know that, Liv, but fuck, what do you expect me to do? I'm sorry, but I can't wait for you forever."

"I never said that I wanted you to!" She demurred like an absolute dickhead, and she always cringes when she thinks back on that.

Niall fell quiet at those words, and her self loathing only grew. "You're right. You didn't."

"I love you. I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Stop saying that. _Please_." Whether he'd meant those three words or her apologizing for them, she still isn't sure. "Come on. Let's get you some water and then to bed."

They hadn't spoken after that, not until the entire gang had been standing together in the airport a few days later, waiting for Niall's plane back to Ireland.

He'd left her with a hug and a promise to keep in touch, but he'd taken a piece of her heart with him.

After that, they'd FaceTime sometimes or text, sending funny pictures or 'this made me think of you' messages, but you can only give so much of your time to someone in another country when your entire life is in the other, so slowly, those had became less and less frequent until they'd fizzled out altogether.

The entire group has done their best to remain close though. They occasionally group call and meet up for lunch whenever any of them are in the same town or city, (well, apart from Harry and Zayn and Louis and Liam who don't live too far away from each other) and they keep up with their cabin tradition.

Niall couldn't make it back the first Christmas after he'd gone back home. Last Christmas, he had, and it was like he'd never left. They all fell back into the same good old regimen, except this time, Niall and Olivia were both dating other people, so they'd had no trouble keeping things platonic, despite the past.

This year, Jack is no longer in the picture though and Olivia remembers on a phone call from earlier this year Harry mentioning to her that Niall and Hailey have also broken up, so... this should be a fun week.

-

"It's settled. I'm eating her," Olivia announces, like she's been left with no other choice.

The gang's all here, lounging around in the living area of Harry's parents' cabin, and he can honestly say that he's missed this. He's missed them all being together, and his heart probably would feel full right now, because he has everything that he needs at the moment, if it weren't for one thing.

"Or I'm squeezing her until she pops," Liv ends, bringing Ellie up in front of her face and pecking both her cheeks. She sets her in her lap and starts jiggling her leg. "Hey, angel. Hello, angel. You are just the sweetest little thing ever, aren't you?" She coos at her, and the baby giggles in her hold like she's been doing all evening.

Harry tries not to glare darkly at the whole exchange. "Liv, would you finally put the baby down?" He speaks up, aiming to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "It's almost time for dinner, and I um, want your help," he mutters.

His best friend turns her head to shoot him a flat stare as she stands and rests Ellie on her hip. "Oh, you're just jealous that she actually likes me better than you and that unlike with all the other babies you've met, your magic baby powers don't seem to be working on her today."

"That's not true." His eyebrows pinch together in chagrin. "She loves me. I am her godfather, after all. How could she not?" He scoffs. "Here, I'll prove it." He stands as well, steps forward and makes to reach for her, but Ellie bursts into tears as soon as he does. That's not even an exaggeration. Literal tears well up in her little blue eyes, and she starts wailing extremely loudly as she turns away from him.

His jaw drops, and all his friends start sniggering at his expense, but he can't even think about that too much as he's more focused on the feeling of his heart breaking inside of him.

Zayn is suddenly at his back though, and the arm that he snakes around Harry as he pulls him to his chest almost makes it all better.

"Don't take it personally, Haz," Liam repeats for about the hundredth time today, smiling at him out of pity. He knows, 'she's just particularly fussy today because she's teething,' and usually, she loves him very much, even more than her own parents, but it still makes him feel sad.

"Don't worry, babe," Zayn whispers into his ear. "I'm sure that when it's our baby, your powers will work on them all the time," he assures Harry whose broken heart stops beating for a second.

He grins, swiftly turning his head to look at him. "Our baby?" He echoes, not being able to keep the mirth out of his voice. Zayn actually said that.

His cheeks darken, and it's a very nice sight to see, Harry thinks. "Well, yeah. Our baby's going to love you, almost as much as I do." He presses his lips to Harry's, and he's sure that Zayn meant for it to be nice and innocent, but with his chest about to burst right now, he really can't help but deepen it.

"Oi, not like that in front of Ellie, you wankers," Louis scolds them both.

And Harry knows that he should probably listen to him, but he can't even bring himself to do so right now.

-

"What are you doing?" is what accidentally falls from her lips as Niall slips into the seat that she was just about to take for herself.

"I'm sitting down to eat?" He tells Olivia, but it sounds like he's not even sure about that himself.

And honestly, she should probably just let him be. Things are already kind of awkward between them right now. She doesn't need to make it worse. She already kind of gawked at him and nearly drowned herself in some orange soda when he first walked through the door, so really, she should just let him have the seat, for saving face sake, but she can't, because she needs it. "You can't sit here," she says. "I'm supposed to sit here."

Niall just looks even more confused now, but there's a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and God, she's missed that. "I wasn't aware that there was a seating chart."

"Yeah, well," she huffs, setting her plate of food down in front of him so he knows that she's serious, "I want to sit next to Harry." That sounded much more reasonable in her head.

"Why?"

Everyone else at the table is looking at her funny now too, because she can admit that it does seem like she's making a big deal over nothing, and Harry is giving her a look that's telling her 'you're being weird and suspicious, don't blow this,' but she can't give up now. She has a job to do, and she's determined to go through with it.

"Because- because I missed him," she sputters with a scoff. "Is that a crime, Neil?"

"No, but the way that you're acting might be," he mumbles, raising from the seat and sliding into the one next to it. "How about here?" He prompts. "Is this okay? Doesn't screw with your arrangement or anything, right?" He's glancing up at her with a teasing kind of smile, and it's irritating, really. He'd always known how to get under her skin for only a few seconds and then make it all better in the next, even before they'd... she doesn't even know what to call it.

"It doesn't. Thank you," she settles for whispering while sliding into the chair, hoping that that puts an end to the conversation.

But it doesn't. "Good," he tells her just as quietly as the others begin to engage in their own discussions and they all start eating. "I wouldn't want to put you out."

She looks over at him, brow furrowing. "Why is that?"

Niall raises his gaze back to her. He shrugs. "Because I missed you too, and I'm hoping that Harry isn't the only one that you did."

Olivia feels her heart jump in her chest, but before she can even get an answer out, he's already chatting off to Louis about some football game. Oh, curse his stupid blue eyes, she thinks, and his dumb natural, not-bleached-anymore, swoopy, soft-looking brown locks, and his totally not attractive facial hair for all being able to leave her like this.

She huffs once more, coercing herself to forget it. She has more important things to focus on right now.

-

Evidently, she didn't focus enough.

Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, how could she do this?

"Harry?" She hesitantly calls out for him over all the noise that the boys and the baby are making. "Harry, I dropped my fork," she tells him shakily, turning to him in panic as she feels bile racing up her throat.

Oh, man. Oh man, oh man, oh man. Holy shit, she's such an idiot. All she had to do was wait for her cue, and she couldn't even do that right because she so stupidly wanted to make certain that she was ready like any of this is even about her, and now she's let the ring fall.

Niall narrows his eyes down at her fork that's still sat in her plate. She quickly shoves it off the table before he can say anything about it.

"Harry, I dropped my fork," she repeats louder because he needs to get it before he utters the key words and doesn't have a ring to go along with them.

"So pick it up." He briefly glances in her direction before turning back to Zayn who's simultaneously entertaining both Ellie and her dads.

"Do it again. Do it again," Liam giggles just as his daughter does.

Olivia grips at Harry's shoulder, so he spins back to her. "No, I dropped my _fork_." She widens her eyes slightly, trying to telepathically communicate to him exactly what she means. "Could you fetch it for me, please?"

His eyebrows furrow slightly. "Um, alright?" He says unsurely, and she almost facepalms at him obviously not getting the hint.

He ducks under the table, and it only takes him a second to find the fork, which isn't surprising since she literally just slipped it off the table but is no less irritating. "Here you-" He tries to hand it to her from under the table, but she knocks it out of his hand before Zayn can see. She prays that it goes further away this time, just far enough that he can spot the ring when he goes for it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Haz." She raises a hand to place on her chest in mock apology. "I am such a klutz. I think I knocked it quite far away this time. You need to _look harder_ ," she says through gritted teeth, repeatedly pointing at her ring finger under the table, hoping that he'll catch on now.

Harry's face scrunches up in confusion even more because what the heck is she even doing, but still, he turns to look for the fork, grumbling under his breath about the things that he'll do for her, and that's when he sees it. The ring.

The ring that he'd bought when Olivia had visited him and Zayn back in November. The ring that he and his best friend had seen while they'd been out shopping. The ring that he'd jokingly told her would look great on Zayn's finger and would match quite well with all his others. The ring that she'd told him he should get for him then.

"Liv, that's an engagement ring," he'd said.

"So?" She'd shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, and he'd found himself agreeing with her.

So he bought it. The whole experience might have felt thrilling, and admittedly, the thought of him asking Zayn to marry him was a bit scary, but it also felt natural from the start because he realized that he wanted to do this. It wasn't something that he'd given much thought to before, but he wanted to propose. He wanted to start a family with Zayn, and he wanted Zayn to say that he wanted that too, because like Louis and Liam, he knew that they could get through anything if they tried hard enough, and they would.

He means, he knows that he can be an arrogant son of a bitch from time to time, and they're both almost too stubborn to function most days, but he knew that they could make it. They made it through the whole situation with Olivia. They made it through the long distance thing. So far, they've made it through all the fights that they've had over dumb stuff where they sometimes just lose their cool, but then they're both apologizing only minutes later, and Harry- Harry's seen how good Zayn is with Ellie and other babies. They were already happily living together, and they mostly want the same things, and even when dealing with the things that they don't, they know how to compromise. How could he not want to marry him?

Those were the thoughts that coursed through him on the day that he bought the ring and gave it to Liv so that Zayn wouldn't find it, and he stills feels those exact feelings whirling and raging inside of him right now as he looks at it and replays the script that he and Olivia had come up with to prepare him for this moment.

But he can't do this, at least not tonight. There's too much at stake, too much on the line for this not to go entirely perfectly, and it already isn't going that way tonight.

So after he grabs the ring and safely tucks it into his pocket, he slides out from under the table and back into his seat, slipping a hand onto Zayn's thigh while concurrently shaking his head just a smidge at Liv and shooting her a look that he hopes tells her, 'not tonight.'

-

Apparently it didn’t.

"Ow!" Harry whips his head in her direction and shoots her a glare. "What was that for?"

Olivia's glowering right back at him, and okay, that's a bit scary. "Why'd you chicken out? I know that I messed up with the whole dropping it thing, but you could have still went for it."

Harry looks around to make sure that Zayn is indeed out of earshot and has already gone upstairs to put Ellie down for bed before he tells her crossly, "I didn't chicken out. Tonight just wasn't the right time is all." He folds his arms. "'s fine. We still have an entire six days left."

"Wait," Niall cuts in, looking up from they're all clearing the table to start tidying up the kitchen, "what are we talking about?"

Olivia sighs, digs into his pocket for it before pulling it out, then shows them all the ring.

Niall's eyebrows lift in surprise. "That's not..." He trails off dubiously.

"Yup." Olivia nods simply, but the guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach still isn't going away.

Louis sets his attention on Harry, appearing amazed as well. "You mean you were going to..."

"Yup." He nods shortly too.

The astonishment doesn't last long on his face, unfortunately, and it's soon replaced with indignation, and oh no, Harry thinks. "So you're telling me, Styles, that you let _Olivia_ in on this and not me?" Yup, there it is.

"Oh yeah," she smirks in satisfaction. "Actually though, if I'm being honest, we all knew, even Liam."

Liam's eyes widen at the allegation as Louis' mouth falls open in shock. He seems thoroughly scandalized, and Liv lives for when he looks like that, really.

"What? No, I didn't!" He exclaims, being a thorough spoilsport. "I'm still not certain that I'm a hundred percent clear on what's even going on right now."

Louis rolls his eyes and stops glaring at Harry and Olivia and even Niall, who just looks amused, to run his hand through Liam's hair. "Oh, my sweet dumb boy," he tsks, ignoring the offended look that he gets in response. "Harold here wanted to propose to Zayn tonight."

"And he missed his chance to do it because even after all these years, he's still a wuss," Niall adds.

"Oh, I get it." Liam nods slowly, and Harry can't believe that he just let Niall call him a wuss. "I had absolutely no part in this though, I swear." He promises Louis.

"Liam." Olivia pouts. "Why couldn't you just go along with it? Obviously, I was kidding. I just wanted to see Lou's face when I said that. Totally worth it, by the way." She winks at him. "But either way, it's clear that Harry chose me to help him with this and not any of you because I'm the only one who knows how to keep a secret around here."

Louis gives her an unimpressed look. "You mean the secret that you just told all of us that we can still let slip in front of Zayn before Harry even grows the pair to ask him?"

Harry sighs. Why is he even still friends with them? He shakes his head and moves away from the four to start doing the dishes as a heated, mostly joking argument ensues. It's not much later that he feels a hand on his arm though, and when he looks up, he finds Olivia there, giving him a soft, hesitant sort of smile. "Hey," she murmurs. "You alright?"

He fondly bumps his hip against hers. "I am. More than, actually."

"Good, good." She nods almost beaming, and he likes that. She's seemed kind of off since the incident at dinner. "I'm glad to hear that. I mean, I just hope that you're not mad at me for... you know."

For almost ruining my proposal to the love of my life?, he doesn't say because that wouldn't get him the smile that he wants. He shakes his head in lieu. "No, of course not, Liv. I could never be mad you, even though you doing that did make me realize how much of a spaz you actually are," she frowns at that, and he chuckles, "but it's fine, really, because you're the reason that I'm proposing to him in the first place. You're the reason that I'm _with_ him in the first place, so thank you. We really wouldn't be here without you."

Her best friend dimples at her, and she feels her entire being fill up with warmth, so she beams back at him, and he feels it too.

-

"So," Niall plops down on the couch next to her, and Olivia tries not to think too much about how a few years ago, she would have easily cuddled up close to him in a second without even thinking about it and how now it's just weird that she can feel his body heat again even though they're sat quite a ways apart at the moment. "Looks like we're the only ones left."

"What?"

He shrugs. "You know. Louis and Liam have a kid. Harry and Zayn are getting married."

"Yeah?" She can more or less see where this is going, but she still looks at him a bit confused.

"We should go out."

She almost chokes at how bluntly he says it. "I- I'm not sure that I understand how that works," she tells him.

"That's not a no," he grins, taking note of it.

"No, I guess it isn't," she allows, pulling both her legs up onto the furniture and crossing them as she faces him with a smile of her own. "Still. Explain it to me."

He chuckles. "Alright. Think of it this way. If we date each other, Liam and Louis and Zayn and Harry won't have to go out and find new couple friends because then we'll all already have each other to go out to lunch with and/or play lame board games with, and we can all have those parties where each couple wears like matching sweaters and all that other good stuff, and the two of us won't ever feel left out or replaced."

Olivia can't help laughing, at his logic or at his adorableness, she's not sure, but it feels good. It feels so freaking good to laugh with him again, so she nods. "Okay."

"Okay?" Niall repeats.

"Yeah, let's do it." She takes both his hands in hers, and he smiles, maybe just a tad goofily when she confirms it. "Let's go out."

-

"Oh God." Harry stops in the doorframe as he takes in the scene before him. He doesn't even bother holding back his groan as he enters the room. "You're back with the book?" He whines, drawing out the last word. "Zayn, you were supposed to come back out so that we could all watch a film, not come in here to read that. There's a reason that I write new songs about you all the time, you know. It's so that you'll stop reading _those_." That's not entirely true, but he doesn't have to know that.

Zayn just lazily smiles up at him and wordlessly reaches out for his hand. Harry wants to frown at that, but he just grudgingly (not really) takes it in his instead and is promptly pulled back into bed.

"I actually wasn't reading this time," Zayn corrects him, not waiting a minute to rest his head on Harry's shoulder. He nuzzles closer. "I wrote you something, and I wanted to show it to you before we went out there." He hands the book over to Harry, with it turned to a page that has Zayn's handwriting scrawled across it instead of his, and he feels a smile already making its way to his face because he loves it when Zayn writes sweet little notes for him.

Harry looks the page over, and his heart rate instantly picks up because of it, because this note isn't quite like the others have been before. "You- you wrote this?" He hears himself ask, but he doesn't even feel his mouth move with the words.

He feels Zayn shrug against him before he pulls his head off his shoulder though. "'s not an entire heartfelt song like you would probably write or anything, but it is how I feel."

Harry's already shaking his head at his boyfriend brushing this incredibly sweet sentiment off because no. "No, it's everything. It's better than anything that I've ever written. It's-" A gasp pours out of his lips as he turns to look at him. A hand flies up to his mouth. "...Zayn?"

"I wanted to be first." Zayn shrugs with a small smile and tears instantaneously pool in Harry's eyes. God, he hates him.

"You- you..."

Zayn laughs slightly, nodding, and Harry can see that his eyes are already wet too. "Yeah. I actually wasn't going to do this until New Years Eve, if I'm being honest, but I knew that something was up at dinner, and I wanted to beat you to it. You know that I'm competitive like that."

Harry nods wobbly because he does. "So you're..." He can't even get any words out. "You're..."

"Yeah, I am." Zayn chuckles again, taking his hand in his. "Is that okay?" Harry only nods. What else can he do? "Good, because I want this, Harry. I want this- I want us with everything that I am for as long as I'm living. I want you. I wanna be the one who holds you in your sleep. I wanna be the one who gets to wake up next to you and has the privilege of seeing your smile before anyone else does. I want brunches and nights in and winters at the cabin. I want duvet days and vanilla ice cream. I want long walks on the beach. I want your songs and your pictures, and I want to paint you and paint on you. I want you and Shiver and lots of babies."

"We can't forget about the babies," Harry shakes his head through his tears.

"We could never forget about the babies." Zayn laughs, shaking his head too. "I want everything, Haz, and I want it all with you. I just want it to be you and I forever. Will you marry me?"

"Liv is going to be really mad that she didn't actually end up helping us out with this," Harry sobs on a laugh because his heart is bursting right now.

Zayn lifts their intertwined hands and wipes a few of his tears away with his thumb. "She can always help with the wedding."

"Wedding?" Harry feels giddy just hearing it. "I haven't even said yes yet, Malik."

"But you will."

"But I will," he concedes woefully, pouting like it's truly something to be sad about, "because I want all of that too."

Zayn tearfully grins at him, all smile lines and crinkly eyes, as he slips the ring onto his only bare finger, and Harry finally leans in to capture his fiancé's lips in a kiss as Zayn's spoken words play over and over in the front of his mind, and his fingers clutch at his old book which is now home to the written words that he's sure that he'll remember for a very long time.

**_Let me love you like I do This feeling will last forever, baby, that's the truth Let me be your man so I can love you_ **

**_For the rest of my life, for the rest of yours  
For the rest of ours_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, was much longer than I anticipated it would be, and I actually had to stop myself from editing further and adding more, but I thoroughly hope that you all enjoyed it!
> 
> Thank you all so much for giving this story a chance! Thank you for all the kudos and sweet words! I wouldn't have been able to complete this story without you guys, so if you made it this far, I love you and you're the bomb!
> 
> Stay kind. Stay beautiful. Stay safe, and enjoy the rest of your day x


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